


Honoring an Ancient Code

by Twisted_Fate_MK2



Series: Ancient Codes [2]
Category: RWBY, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Sequel, Some Characters have Cybernetic Limbs, second in a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25544395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Fate_MK2/pseuds/Twisted_Fate_MK2
Summary: They Won the Battle of Beacon, and bear the scars to show for it. But with their victory comes risks and questions. Questions about Remnant itself, the risk of revenge from those who lost the Battle, and so much more surrounding both. On a journey for answers, what will be found? (Sequel to Remnants of an Ancient Code, Ch I is the Epilogue of ROAC)
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos
Series: Ancient Codes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851010
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

XxX----XxX----XxX

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XxX----XxX----XxX

This is the Epilogue of Book One.

It is the Prologue for this story.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Cinder came to in an old room she didn’t recognize, staring up at an old, flaking, cracked and yellowing ceiling and blinking owlishly. Her head felt heavy and thick, like ice cold syrup sloshing around lazily in a bottle. For a while that infuriating realization was all her foggy head could register, could process, beyond tracing out the myriad cracks that spider-webbed the ceiling above her.

Then, she heard a voice.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” The man said, his voice nothing but condescension and smarm. “I was wondering when you would decide to wake up, Cindy. Having to smuggle out an unconscious, wanted woman wasn’t something I looked forward to.”

She tried to speak first, to say something to the man, but her mouth felt like cotton. Dry and rough, and certainly not about to let her speak. Giving up on that, she tried to turn to look at the man, following the sound of his heels on the floorboard, but all that accomplished was sending a lance of agony through her shoulder and into her neck and head. The white hot agony dragged a hiss of pain from her and set stars in her eyes.

And earned a low, mocking laugh from the man for her efforts.

“Your head feels heavy and thick, your mind is a bit on the slow side and your mouth is drier than a Vacuoan summer.” The man informed her dryly and simply, dragging a chair over to her and sitting down beside her. “Morphine,” he explained, leaning forward so she could see him smile down at her, “for your rather, well, extensive injuries.”

Injuries...?

Ah, yes, she remembered now, lances of pain slamming into her from the side of her face and her shoulder. It was sudden, like a switch had been thrown, and drew another hiss from her. Then, the pain started to fade again and she turned, ever so slightly, to see the man’s hands withdrawing from her.

“Very extensive injuries.” He reiterated, inspecting the empty syringe in his hand and then dropping it into a little bag on the bed beside her. Sighing, the man met her gaze and held it, gravely serious for once, “Normally I’d enjoy this, but time is a bit of a commodity for the moment, so I’ll be frank. Do you remember what happened?”

Remember what… Ah.

“The… Maiden.” She murmured, voice rough and gravelly. Her dry throat seized and she coughed, pain flaring along her side and through her head as she did. As the stars settled she felt a straw press to her lips and leaned up, sucking the cool water down greedily until it was withdrawn. “P-Please-”

“Normally, I’d rather enjoy your begging, but again, time.” Watts sighed, withdrawing the water and giving her a look, “What happened? Do you remember?”

“Went for the Maiden.” She explained weakly, “Killed Ozpin, beat most of them, but…”

“But?”

“The… Blonde.” What was his name? She couldn’t remember it and growled for it, closing her eyes and sighing weakly. “Head’s… Foggy, I can’t remember his name.”

“Describe him.” Watts ordered simply, drawing his Scroll out and flicking it open.

“Blonde.” She started simply, coughing once before going on, “Black robes, with light armor I… Think.” What the hell kind of morphine had the man put her under with? “Nikos’ partner. Adam beat Nikos, then he went… Ballistic.”

“Explain.” Watts ordered simply, adding, “As best you can, at least.”

“It was… Like fighting Ozpin, almost.” Not quite, but Watts could at least get the idea from the description. Still, she tried to think and offer more, as difficult as either was for her, “He was less skilled. Sloppy. But… He shot lightning from his fingers and-and he ripped down stones from the ceiling, threw them at me.”

“Lightning…?”

“Yes.” She remembered watching him use it on Adam, before he treated him like a dirty room, beating it against the wall to clean it. “I hit him with everything I had, e-even called on the Maiden power some, but he… Didn’t care. He just kept coming and- Emerald!”

The sudden shout set off a coughing fit that had the man sighing and pressing the bottle of water back to her lips. He let her have a couple sips before withdrawing it again and saying, quietly, “Emerald was the little girl you kept with you, yes?”

“Y-Yes.” She answered, “I- He tricked me and I-”

“Shot her, yes.” He nodded, raising his Scroll and smiling thinly. Condescending and pleased with himself, almost, but like he knew better than to really show it. Quietly, he said, “I have access to Atlas’ after action reports. Her body was recovered with a couple of glass arrows lodged in it, after everything was said and done.”

“Her body…?”

“Oh yes.” He nodded, “She is very, very dead I’m afraid. Atlas’ reports make that very clear.”

“Damn it…” So she’d killed her after all, then. Whether or not the blonde bastard had tricked her into it didn’t matter, not to her. She’d still taken the shots. Still killed her with her own arrows, with her own two hands.

Her own two hands…

Head throbbing she grit her teeth and put all her meager energy into lifting her hand. Looking at it. Her right arm was injured, covered in bandages and a cast around her wrist. But for the most part, it was nothing too severe. Letting the arm rest at her side she turned her head and blinked, not seeing the bed even as her face ached for her rubbing her cheek against it. For the moment, she ignored that, and tried to lift her other arm to inspect it.

All she got in answer was a searing pain and a strange… Tingle. Like she was trying to move a numb limb, and her brain couldn’t quite register if it was there or not.

When she didn’t see anything for a moment her heart began to race and she murmured, “W-Watts, what’s wrong with my-”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t save the arm. Or the eye, for that matter, though I did try.” The man answered, her head snapping around to meet his impassive, resigned gaze with a wide eye. Raisin his eyebrows he asked, quietly, “Are you going to have a panic attack? If you are, I can put you back under for a while.”

“Y-You couldn’t save my... “ She blinked, chest heaving and eye blinking rapidly. Why couldn’t she see out of her other eye? How hadn’t she noticed that? “Watts, t-this isn’t funny. What do you mean-?”

“Panic attack it is, then, I suppose.” The man sighed, drawing another long, thin needle from somewhere and snapping a hand out to grip her wrist. This time she struggled but he only sighed and squeezed, sending bolts of pain up her arm from her broken wrist and making her freeze long enough to jab the needle into her arm.

“We’ll talk again when you’re calmer.” The man assured her as her breathing slowed and her head became heavy. Soon, she was slipping into unconsciousness, only a single thought persisting until she faded away entirely.

‘Jaune Arc…’

XxX----XxX----XxX

He left the mangled amputee in her bed, once he was certain she would remain unconscious, and moved across the squat little motel room to sit on his own ratty bed. Setting his case on the floor he paused for the shortest moment to take a deep, steadying breath. Then, his hands trembling ever so slightly, he unclasped the top and pushed it away, to give it the space it needed.

Or rather, the space he wanted.

The Seer inside emerged like the nightmare it very much was. Its long, barbed tendrils shot up out of the darkness and then down, embedding in the old, ratty floor for the purchase it wanted to tug itself free of the bag. Once it was free it floated freely, tendrils relaxing under it as it stretched and shuddered in the cool air of the motel room.

“Mistress?” He was fairly certain she’d been listening the whole time but, with the Grimm in the room, it bore making sure.

“Doctor.” She greeted, sounding simultaneously amused and agitated. Languidly, the creature drifted away from him, hovering low over the still woman in her bed. Then the ancient woman sighed, though it sounded somehow less sad and more… Disappointed. “Poor, pathetic little thing. You couldn’t save the arm?”

“No, Mistress, I could not.” He answered, thankful for the chance to talk science rather than… Well, rather than about his mistress’ foiled plans. “The shoulder bone was mostly, well, melted where the joint connected. It would have been surgery beyond what I was able to do to save it.”

“You lacked the skills?”

“The supplies.” He corrected, bristling instinctively and then balking when he remembered who he was talking to. Coughing to clear his throat he explained, “I would have needed an operating room, and specialised tools, to repair the melted bone and ligaments. I lacked the proper equipment to attempt such a venture without risking killing the girl.”

“Truly?”

“The damage was extensive, my Queen.” He nodded, standing and joining her Seer, looking down on the bandage wrapped young woman. In truth, he doubted he’d have even been able to save the arm with the condition it had been in. “Melted bone, blackened skin with a texture approaching burnt pork and nonexistent ligaments… I’m not quite sure what hit her, but I would very much like to avoid ever encountering it myself.”

“A wise thing to hope for, I imagine.” She murmured, asking after a moment, “She said that the person that did this was Nikos’ partner, yes?”

“Indeed.” He nodded, bringing up his Scroll and looking at the file, “A blonde, she said. The blonde on her team is one Jaune Arc. And, apparently, he uses two weapons interchangeably. A more classic glaive of sorts and a twin bladed ‘energy saber’ of sorts. That,” he noted as he closed the Scroll, “could very easily have done the damage I’m seeing.”

“I remember her name, but not his.” Salem said, “Cinder included her in a list of women that Ozpin might seek to give the Maidenhood to.”

“She was, yes.” Along with half a dozen other young women skilled and ‘honorable’ enough for Cinder to worry about them. “I don’t believe that she was the one chosen to take on the power, though.”

“No?” The Seer echoed, turning slightly to regard him and ignoring the fallen woman. “How can you be so sure, Doctor? Nikos’ partner did this to Cinder, after all. Isn’t that evidence she took the power?”

“Evidence, yes.” He nodded, returning to his bed and shaking his head, “Proof, no.”

“Explain.” The Seer ordered, floating closer to him in an old, if not ineffective, show of her power over him.

“Miss Nikos lost her legs in the fighting.” He said simply, easing back on the ratty bed if only for more space between him and the Grimm. It followed, though, hovering over him threateningly for whatever purpose the Grimm Queen ordered it to. “But she lost them to the White Fang leader Cinder… Persuaded into her service.”

“Not to Cinder herself, then.” Salem answered, the Grimm pulling away from him to hover in the open space in front of the cheap little television. “If Nikos had the power, or was trying to get it, then Cinder would have dealt with her herself. Not sent some peon to fight her.”

“Indeed.” Watts nodded, taking the empty space to breathe and collect himself. “Further, she isn’t being protected terribly in the hospital.”

“The hospital?”

“She lost her legs in the fighting.” He answered simply, “Taurus’ Semblance is rather powerful, as it turns out. He took them.”

“I see.” She answered, seemingly making the easy connection that Adam Taurus was the White Fang leader he’d mentioned. “And how is Mister Taurus?”

“Under arrest and very, very heavy guard.” He’d considered rescuing him already, if only to cause some confusion and chaos. The cost and risk had been prohibitive, but if she ordered it… Well, best to try a change of subject, he supposed, “Miss Nikos, and those others involved in the altercation, are under the same level of guard. The General’s personal part time Hunters, full time thugs, the Ace Ops, have taken over protection duty of one of them, though.”

“A woman?”

“Indeed.” He nodded, “Blake Belladonna, who is-”

“The Maiden. She interrupted tiredly, sighing. “Yes, it’s fairly obvious.”

“Yes, well…” That hadn’t been what he was going to say, but his queen sounded quite finished with the conversation at hand, so he wouldn’t press his luck. Instead he asked, quietly, “Shall I have her dealt with? It would be a challenge but if it would be-”

“No.” Salem answered quickly, “That won’t be necessary, right now. Without Cinder on hand with the parasite to ensure she gets the full Maidenhood there’s little point.”

“I see.” He said, trying to hide the relief in his voice. Going up against the Ace Ops did not sound like something he wanted to have to do with things as they were… “Your orders then, my Queen?”

“Withdraw.” She said simply, “Bring Cinder home, Doctor. We will tend to her wounds and then decide on our next course of action. I know you have your own work in Vale,” work that would, apparently, need to be abandoned, “but the Maidens and the Relics take priority. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry to have wasted your time sending you there only to recall you so abruptly.”

“No apologies needed, my lady.” She never apologized to anyone but him, he knew, and that brought a smile to his face. “I’m just glad that I was lucky enough to be here when young Cinder needed me.”

“Indeed.” The Grimm answered, moving towards his back and curling its tendrils in. As it settled in she sighed, adding a final, “I shall see you when you get here, Watts. Do not return without young Cinder in tow, or you will pay for the lost investment personally.”

“Y-Yes, my Queen.” Somehow, he didn’t think she meant in Lien. “I will bring her to you quickly.”

She didn’t answer, settling the Grimm into place and then putting the creature to sleep. After a moment, he allowed himself to collapse back onto his own ratty bed. Then, he heaved a great sigh.

“I’ll make you pay for putting me in this situation, Ironwood…” He swore quietly for very distinctly not the first time, “If you’d just chosen me then everything would be fine.”

Of course, he hadn’t, and nothing could change that now. But at least he had a goal to focus on, for a while. Even if it did mean having to put up with the entitled, self-important little tart that was Cinder, it would be a decent enough distraction. At least, it would be in a few days, when Atlas calmed down the tiniest bit.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Great Vale was an old hospital, even Ruby could tell that much just from looking at it. Old hallways with old style brick walls made up most of its wings and rooms, and the windows were barred. An old security measure from the Great War, she remembered Doctor Oobleck telling them, since hospitals would be filled by wounded and their families if the Grimm attacked the city.

Or if something else did, though Oobleck hadn’t specified what that might be in his lesson.

Now, after everything that had happened the day before, Ruby had a feeling she knew what that ‘something else’ had been...

“You good, kid?” The halls of the old hospital were surprisingly empty, ater everything had happened, but her uncle still didn’t want her off on her own. So, sharp eyes scanning every nurse, doctor and passerby they, well, passed by, he joined her. He spared her a worried little look, though, adding, “You look like someone just stole your cookies, then banned ‘em in the whole Kingdom.”

“They wouldn’t do that.” She blinked, turning a wide-eyed look on him and asking, hands held up ‘kung fu style’ like Heise Chan from Mistral Rush, “W-Would they?! I’ll fight ‘em off if they try!”

“Ruby, I’m bein’ serious right now.” Her uncle growled warningly, Ruby blinking in surprise at his flat, unamused and completely unconvinced stare. “Put your hands down, and stop tryin’ to brush me off, kiddo.”

“I’m not-”

“I helped raise you, kid, don’t pretend you can lie to me.” He cut her off, turning his sharp gaze back on the people they were passing by as they rounded a corner.

Ahead of them were the heavy, armored doors that led into the secure wing, where prisoners were normally kept when they were sick or hurt. And now, where her friends were staying. Where they had to stay, right now, under heavy guard provided by Atlas’ finest and a selection of Hunters Miss Goodwitch had sent to help. Ironwood hadn’t spared any effort or expense protecting even just the first door, seven of his soldiers standing outside it in a disciplined, quiet formation. Three Atlesian Navy to either side, in their shining silver armor and blue underlining, with a Specialist leaning against the door itself between them.

Seeing them, the dark skinned man smiled and raised a hand, waving a hello and pushing off the door while his tail swished along behind him.

“Before we go in,” Qrow grunted, laying a hand on her shoulder and pushing her to the side, out of the ‘path’ in the center of the hall and closer to the wall, “you think it might be a good idea to let me know what’s up?”

“I… I-I don’t...” She gave him a look and froze, her emotions suddenly flaring up inside of her, harder than she had expected and more than she could control. Anger, pain, fear and above it all, confusion, they all welled up like a tidal wave slamming into a fracturing dam. Yanking her shoulder back, out of his grip, she snapped, “Isn’t it obvious ‘what’s up’ Uncle Qrow?”

“I-”

“Beacon is half destroyed, it’s been closed for days! All those things Ozpin told us about-” Qrow’s eyes widened warningly, his head snapping to either side to see if anyone was listening, and she hissed, “See? You aren’t listening, too worried about his frickin’ secrets! My home is gone, my friends are hospitalized, one of them might never be able to fight again, b-because of these secrets.”

“Ruby, the Battle of Beacon wasn’t Ozpin’s fault….”

“I know that, Uncle!” She hissed, pressing her face into the palms of her hands and sucking in a deep, deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to break there. Letting out the shaky breath she gave him a look, her smile forced and eyes burning, “But it’s still because of his secrets. Yang can barely move, Pyrrha lost her legs, so many people died… J-Jaune killed people, and laughed while he was doing it.”

“Yeah…” Qrow sighed, giving her a soft look and, after a moment, reaching for her again. This time she let him touch her, let him pull her in for a hug she returned. Running rough, calloused hands through her hair, Qrow murmured, “S’war, kid. People get hurt, bad sometimes, and people die. Some people snap, like your friend, too. S’just… S’war.”

“I hate war.” She murmured into his chest, squeezing her arms around him. He smelled like oil, and grease, and alcohol and, now that she knew what it smelled like, blood. But he was there, and the smell proved it. “I was so scared, watching them fight, Uncle… It was incredible, what Jaune could do- Can Maidens do that too?”

“They can.” He answered, voice rumbling through his chest, “Oz can too, when he needs to. There’s… A lot out there.”

“I want to know everything you do.” She said quietly, pulling away and giving her uncle a hard look when he stammered out the start of a denial. “This is a war, right?” He nodded, “Then I deserve to know everything I can, if I’m going to fight it.”

“Ruby you don’t have to fight-”

“I’m a Huntress, Uncle Qrow.” She said, pushing off him and standing straighter, more than aware of the Specialist’s confused gaze from down the hall.

“You’re a kid.” Her uncle argued, “A student, not a Huntress. Not yet.”

“Did that matter to Cinder?” She asked quietly, the man’s jaw clicking shut at the simple question. In his silence she pressed on, “Pyrrha lost her legs even though she was only a student. Yang’s back is covered in burns and she can barely walk. Cinder would have killed me to get to Blake, and we're both students. And Blake won’t even-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” The man sighed, shoving one hand in a pocket and reaching for his flask with the other. The hospital had forbidden it, though, so his hands came up empty and he scowled. Instead, he shoved the other hand in a pocket and sighed, quietly, “Fine, kid. I’ll tell you everything I know once we’re outta here. I know a quiet little diner where we can talk it all out. What Oz told you n’ what he didn’t both.”

“Thank you.” She was terrified of what he’d have to say, but… Well, the truth hurt, sometimes.

And she needed to know to do this right.

“Sure.” The man sighed, bobbing his head towards the door, “Let’s go see your team now, then, hm?”

“Yeah…” She smiled again, and this time it was a bit more natural feeling to her. “Yeah, let's go see ‘em.”

“Hey.” Specialist Amin said as they approached, waving a hand to make the other six guards relax while his other took their identification. While he looked them over, meticulous as always even through she’d come by him half a dozen times by now, he asked, “You good, kid?”

“Not really, goin’ to see my friends in the hospital and all, but…” She smiled, “I’ll be okay.”

“I hope so. You helped protect the General after all. Atlas owes you a big thank you for that.” Handing back their identification he sighed and grimaced, uncomfortable but resigned to the normal routine. “We’re, uh, still restricting visitation to teams and family only, though. For, uh, security reasons.”

“Yeah, I figured.” She hated it, too, even if it had been explained already and made plenty of sense. “Are there, um, any changes?”

“Miss Xiao Long is moving around a bit more easily, and Miss Schnee has started physical therapy for her broken arm. Aura is great for healing breaks like hers, but…” He shrugged, “You still have to work on getting your strength back.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, “That can be the hardest part, right?”

“It can, yeah.” He nodded, pushing the door aside and smiling for them, welcoming them through, “The Schnee and your sister are in Miss Xiao Long’s room right now, doing their therapy with Nurse Freya.”

They thanked him quietly, as always, and brushed by, into the quiet of the maximum security wing.

Here, the halls were empty of the ‘creature comforts’ in the rest of the hospital’s halls and wings. Chairs, cabinets, paintings and even the ceiling mounted televisions were all absent, here. The security cameras were even different, black little half-circles every few feet encased in wire fencing with little signs hanging beside them warning that they were electrified. It didn’t even have its nurse’s station in its wing. Instead it’d been built back, through the armored doors and up the hall, tucked into a little office room.

Not for the first time it struck her that this was probably what a prison felt like...

The guards, one Human and one droid at each reinforced door they passed, didn’t pay them any mind as they passed. Most of the rooms were empty, she knew, or used as temporary quarters for the guards so that they were kept safe and monitored. But by guarding each door, General Ironwood had told her, they made it harder for anyone attacking them to know where exactly her friends were staying.

Which meant they were safer.

“Hey Yang! Weiss!” Ruby cheered brightly as the guard by her door let them both in, paying them little nods of respect as they brushed by. “How are you?”

“Doin’ good.” The blonde grunted shortly, sat on a mat on the floor and slowly, gingerly doing sit-ups while the nurse watched over her. Like Weiss, she was dressed in loose fitting trousers and a loose fitting shirt, both grey and marked out with the hospital’s logo. Grunting and sweating for the effort of the no doubt painful exercise, she growled, “Back hurts but s’not new.”

“Great!” She said, taking a spot on her sister’s freshly made bed since she wasn’t using it. Turning to her partner in the chair beside it she asked, “How’s your arm?”

“It’s sore and stiff.” The woman complained, grimacing as she raised and lowered a little weight. “But getting better.”

“Glad to hear it.” Ruby smiled, turning a look on the old, frail looking woman that was their nurse. The old woman, who’d told her she’d been born during the Great War when she asked about her name, smiled, sitting in her own chair and taking notes, and Ruby asked, “How, um, are they doing?”

“Very well.” The woman nodded, glancing down at her notes and smiling even more widely. “I would guess that Miss Xiao Long will be back to her prime, or very near to it, by the end of next week. Two weeks to recover is perfectly normal for moderate dermal electrical damage with Aura treatments, so she’s just fine, by my metrics.”

“Yeah I am.” She laughed, groaning as she sat up once more and then began slowly lowering herself down, “Takes more ‘n super taser lasers to slow me down.”

“Don’t get cocky, kid.” Qrow warned, resting against the wall by the door. Still, when Yang and Ruby stuck their tongues out at him, he smiled.

“Miss Schnee’s break was clean and healed up inside a few days, thanks to Aura treatments.” The ancient nurse went on, completely unperturbed by what was by now the norm for these visits. “Another week and change, which is well within the norm as well, and I believe she will be back in fighting form as well. I’m sure your father will be pleased, the bill for treatment will be notably low.”

“As if he would care…” The mention of her father seemed to sour Weiss’ mood a bit, her lifting slowing for a moment before she sighed. “I’d have rather used Beacon’s insurance, really, than rely on his money.”

“Yeah…” She only hadn’t because she knew that there were a lot of people hurt by the attacks, so public insurance was straining.

“I mean, at least you didn’t have to fill out all that paperwork.” Yang grumbled morosely, finally rolling over and standing with a grimace. Catching Ruby’s worried gaze the blonde rolled her eyes and explained, not for the first time, “Moving around hurts a bit, sometimes. If I have to twist or anything.”

“That reminds me,” the nurse smiled, “your next exercise set will incorporate gentle stretching.”

“Oh fuck me…”

“Sweetheart you’re about twenty years too young for me.” Yang actually choked on the water she’d been drinking, laughing quietly amid hisses of pain while the doctor scratched out more notes. “I see your back still hurts whenever you laugh, too. Breathing exercises will be a must as well then, to get you back to full strength faster.”

“That was-” She grunted, hand on her side and then relaxed, letting out a weak breath. “That was a test?”

“Mhm.” The woman nodded, smiling gently and raising a single thin, grey eyebrow, “That’s my job, after all. Did you forget? Is the uniform not enough for you? I can send for an ‘I work here, Yang Xiao Long’ sign if you need me to.”

Yang snorted, shaking her head and holding up her inner and middle fingers at the woman, smiling all the while, “You know you love me, Grannie.”

“Sure, sure. I suppose that explains why I am working so hard to get you on the mend. And out of my patients list.” Yang laughed and the woman joined her, turning a silent, questioning look on Ruby.

It was a soft, kind of sad look, and one Ruby knew pretty well by now. The nurse was their regular one and very attuned to them by now. And as much as she hated to ruin the mood, she needed to know… “How… How is Blake doing?”

“She’s still not woken up.” Nurse freya answered quietly, smiling weakly and rushing to add, “However, tests using stimuli are showing improvements. Both in simple physical reactions, tapping joints and the like, and in neurological scans. Her brain is reacting more and more to whatever we stimulate her with.”

“So she’s… Getting better?”

“Comas are always fickle, so while I can’t definitively state anything…” The doctor smiled, “I would say that she is. Or, well, I’d bet my money on it at least. I’ve been told a highly esteemed neurological specialist from Atlas will be flying in tomorrow, with some things for your other friend as well, to see to her.”

“Okay.” A specialist and she was seeing improvement? Ruby took a deep breath and let herself feel hopeful, finally, that Blake was really, really going to be okay. “Thanks, Nurse Freya. I’m… I’m really happy to hear she’s doing better.”

“I can understand that.” Nurse Freya smiled, turning a smile on Yang sitting beside Ruby on the bed. “Oh, did I forget to mention, your stretching exercises start today. Right now.” Yang whined and the nurse clapped her hands, smiling, “Hop to it, chop chop.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

It took several hours before the Battle of Beacon, which was now officially being called that by Atlas and Vale both, had finally come to an end. Long enough that Pyrrha’s legs weren’t safely reattachable, at least without some undefined, nebulous ‘loss of functionality’ that no one had been able to properly explain to them. But according to the doctors, she’d almost certainly lose some of the functionality, even if everything went well and they had luck on their side.

Neither of them had been feeling particularly lucky after the battle, though.

So now, instead of the long, lean muscle of a Huntress, her legs ended mid-thigh. To get ready for her coming prosthetics, which he’d been told were already well on their way, she’d already been through surgery to ‘even up’ her legs and install the cybernetic connectors. They were both simple little silver half-circles, set into a bracketed frame that had been bolted onto an internal frame and then her thigh bone.

Which sounded incredibly painful to him, but she assured him it didn’t hurt at all. According to her, they even dealt with her phantom pain somehow, taking in her brain’s impulses to move her legs and check on their condition and responding properly. He didn’t understand it, really, but-

“Jaune.” The woman murmured, sitting up in her bed and giving him a flat, disapproving stare. He blinked and grimaced, and she sighed, “You’re staring at them, Jaune. Again. Even though you promised you wouldn’t.”

“S-Sorry, Pyr.” He sighed, masking his embarrassment in taking a drink from his bottle of green tea. It was a bit bitter but, according to Ren, would help him relax.

He didn’t think it was working, though, he still felt as tense as ever.

“Jaune, you know this isn’t your-”

“I know it isn’t, Pyr.” She’d made certain he knew her losing her legs was no fault of his, or hers. Semblances were random, and often ludicrously powerful, and she’d been taken off guard by her enemy’s. “I was just-”

“Brooding?”

“Thinking.” He corrected her, chuckling at the sarcastic little roll of her eyes. “I’m a Revanite, Pyr. I don’t brood over anything.”

“No, no, you don’t brood.” She demurred, taking a strand of her loose, untied and wild hair and playing with it with a hand. “No, you just stare very intently at my, er, my stumps. While thinking. And glaring.”

“Okay, maybe I was brooding a little bit.” The admission drew a laugh from her, bright and happy, which made him relax a bit. She was still pale, a little, from what had happened. And she couldn’t move around very easily. But that she could still laugh bolstered his spirits, some.

Or, well, a lot.

“What were you thinking about, then?” She finally asked, smiling when he gave her a confused look, “When you were totally not brooding, I mean. What was on your mind?”

“Well…” He sighed, shaking his head and buying a moment to gather his thoughts with another drink of his bitter tea. It didn’t help, much, and the maneuver must have been obvious since Pyrrha’s brows furrowed at it. She really was too good at reading him, sometimes… “Cinder, the archer, I mean, she’s still out there.”

“Jaune…”

“You’re still in danger, Pyrrha.” She grimaced and shifted in her seat to face him a bit more, to argue with him, and he asked, “When your new legs get here, are you going to stay out of the fight?”

“No.” She answered quietly, “We’ve been over that already, though. With the prosthetics, I’ll be back in top form, sooner or later. And so long as I can fight, my duty remains.”

“Then we need to think about Cinder, the archer.” He nodded, the woman grimacing at his words. The logic itself was simple, really, and she either agreed with it or didn’t see a way to argue against it. “I beat her, but she escaped. I killed her team, but-”

“I wish you wouldn’t talk about that so flippantly…” Pyrrha sighed, giving him an altogether sad look. “You took lives, Jaune. Two of them, in fact, and, Force, you wanted to take a third. I had to argue with you to stop you.”

“He took your legs, Pyr.” He argued simply, holding up a hand for peace when she made to respond. “It was a battle, Pyrrha, and I’m a Force Warrior. My beliefs on life and death, and killing, are just… Different to yours. In Revanism, and most Force teachings, our destinies are defined by the will of the Force. Dying in a fight, then, would be that destiny.”

“I suppose…” She blinked, “Wouldn’t my fate be something to accept too, then?”

“The Force willed me to be warned of your possible future.” He argued simply, shrugging, “If it wanted to warn me, it doesn’t necessarily will you to die that way. Why warn someone of something that you don’t want them to prevent, after all?”

“A fair point, I suppose.” She sighed, both in relief and something else he couldn’t quite discern. He considered reaching out to ‘probe’ her wake in the Force, for a moment, before letting it go. “What do you propose we do, then?”

“Find her and either somehow remove her as a threat, or kill her.” He answered simply, shrugging and taking another sip of his tea. “I doubt it’ll be that simple, of course, but ultimately? Dealing with her will be better for everyone.”

“I’d prefer we arrest her, not kill her…”

“If we can manage it, we will.” Though he sincerely doubted that would ever, ever be possible. She didn’t strike him as the surrendering type and, if push came to shove, he wouldn’t lose any sleep over resolving the problem permanently. “For now, though, we need a plan. To keep getting stronger, and deal with the threats coming for us.”

“Indeed.” Pyrrha nodded, “The Archive, then?”

“That’s what I was thinking, yeah. At least as a starting point.” He nodded, grimacing and then adding, quietly, “I… Don’t think being at Beacon will be very conducive to our goals, though.”

“No?”

“No.” He affirmed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I think… It’s hard to phrase what I think we should do, really, but… I think that we need to forge our own path, outside the Academies’ lines. Between the Temple I was trained in, and the Archive, and even the Maidens and how their power and Ozpin’s powers felt to me, in the Battle, there’s… Something bigger than us going on here, on Remnant.”

“And you aim to find out what.” Pyrrha concluded, “Correct?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, giving her a small smile and offering, gently, “You don’t have to come with me, if you don’t want to, Pyr. I wouldn’t-”

“Jaune Arc if you imply for one moment that I will let you go on some life changing, world rocking journey without me, then once my prosthetics arrive I will break one over your head.” The woman threatened lightly, smiling when he turned to give her a look. Reaching out for one of his hands, and squeezing it gently when he gave it to her, “If you feel you need to do this, then by whatever gods that be, I will be there with you.”

“Yeah?” She nodded and he smiled, a strange sort of warmth blooming in his chest. Scooting his chair closer so he could hold her hand more comfortably, he sighed, “Well, I suppose this means that Nora and Ren will… Probably want to come, too.”

“Quite likely.” She nodded, “For now, let’s just… Enjoy what time we have.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, taking another sip of his tea and sighing contently. “Let’s do that. At least until Ren and Nora get back and-”

“Heeere’s Nora!” The woman suddenly shouted, throwing open the door with an exasperated Ren and an exasperated guard standing behind her.

“She spent ten minutes waiting for a moment…” The guard sighed, pointing a long, gloved finger at Jaune and adding, tiredly, “She’s your problem now, Sir. Please, at least try to keep her contained.”

Jaune could only laugh, as the man pulled the door shut behind the duo.

No one kept Nora contained, after all.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Is this… The rare happy ending? At least to the first ‘book’ of a series?

My god, I think it might be.

Hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next ‘book’ in this series. Might continue off the same story, might make a new one. We shall see, so make sure you are Following me so you can get the update either way~!

XxX----XxX----XxX

Scrub Lord :

Glad you liked it! As for Emerald getting to him, rationalize as you like. Personally, I think it was partially him being distracted as you said, and partially him assuming she was dead.

Lord Owl :

She lost a lot of assets, in fact.

Glad you enjoyed!

Zenith Tempest :

So. *sips tea* Still think I lost my inspiration for this~? XD

Hirshja :

Yeah, I wanted to strike a good balance of damage to power growth, bubt not call attention to it. That’s part of why the fight scene was from Cinder’s POV actually. Less fluff with the Force to describe and give away the subtleties.

Insane Wombat :

Their Hunters. Pyrrha and co are in the right, sticking by their duty and trying to do what’s right. Sometimes, it ain’t fun for you when you do what’s right. But as shown throughout, these people aren’t the types to abandon their duties to save their own hides.

John Killa 100 :

Expect it soonish! Dunno if I will make a separate story for it or post a continuation here, but it will be here soonish. I’m having too much fun not to!

Joeyginise :

As you can see, she ded.

Wright Knight :

Reattaching limbs is tricky and hard for anything bigger than a finger. For two entire legs, the loss of functionality that would certainly occur would be too much to risk. Even just a moderate permanent loss in utility could be damning to her career, which makes it a less than desirable option.

Also, robot limbs are kewl.


	2. As Things Stand

XxX----XxX----XxX

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Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Good evening, Mister Arc.” The now Headmistress of Beacon Academy said as the elevator door slid open to let him into the familiar, open office of the Headmaster. He paid her a nod in return and she smiled, turning to look at the straight-backed woman beside him, “And the same to you, Miss Nikos.”

“Headmistress.” Pyrrha nodded, “It’s good to see you are well.”

“The same to you.” The Headmistress nodded, waving at a pair of comfortable looking office chairs across from her. “Please, have a seat.”

“I’d rather stand.” Pyrrha laughed, the duo walking across the office towards the seat while she explained. “After so long without them, I enjoy being able to simply stand on my own two feet.”

“So long as you’re comfortable.” The woman nodded, adding with a smile, “It is very good to see you on your feet again, though.”

“I’m just happy to be on my feet, Headmistress.” Pyrrha nodded, smiling and standing beside him where he sat, her hands folded in front or her. “Ever since I got them, well… I like staying on my feet, now.”

“Nothing like losing something to make you appreciate it more deeply than ever…”

“Yes, well…” She frowned and shrugged, radiating a sense of unease that had him scowling. Pyrrha either saw it or knew him well enough to predict it and laid a hand on his shoulder, “I suppose you are right. And I am grateful to have survived to see my second chance.”

Her prosthetics had arrived two weeks ago by now, and Pyrrha had wasted no time in having them fitted so she could start learning to walk again.

Like Ironwood’s, they had been built in separate pieces and then connected by built-in joint pieces, hidden under thick but smooth protective tubing. Like Ironwood’s, hers had come in military black and silver. Ruby was happy enough to repaint them to match her skin-tone when she asked, though. Combined with the smoother, more distinctly feminine shape of the pieces, Pyrrha looked like nothing had happened.

Aside from the gentle bumps of the bracketed connector he could see on her thigh, just below the hem of her skirt, at least.

“With all due respect, we’re here for a reason, Goodwitch.” He started simply, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his fingers under his chin. “You saw my email, right?”

“I did.” She sighed and nodded, “And I suppose you won’t be surprised when I say I wasn’t too pleased to.”

“I won’t be.” He shrugged, “I’m about as surprised to hear that as you are to hear I don’t give a damn.”

“Jaune!”

“It’s quite alright, Miss Nikos.” The woman sighed, waving off the Mistralian’s concerns, resting her chin on the palm of one hand and drumming on the desk between them with the fingers of her other, “After everything he did during the Battle, I respect Mister Arc enough to let him speak as he wishes.”

“And I respect her, too.” He nodded, “Enough not to sugar coat my words, or treat her like she can’t handle my answers, at least.”

“I suppose…”

“Whatever the case, I feel a grave need to urge you to reconsider your decision. Both of you.” Goodwitch said, flicking a gaze to the Mistralian beside him and then back to him, frowning thinly, “We could use your skills here, in the coming days. Beacon, Vale, and frankly, personally as well.”

“I’m sorry you won’t have them.” Jaune shrugged, “Fall is still out there, Miss Goodwitch. And while that’s the case, my priority rests in resolving that.”

“By which you mean killing her, I presume?”

“No better way to-”

“If we must, we will, but we are not on a blood path.” Pyrrha interrupted, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows challengingly at him. He rolled his eyes, after a moment, and she chuckled, adding, “We’re of two minds on the matter.”

“As I can see…” The Headmistress sighed, “You’d be safer here, though. Surrounded by Hunters, soldiers and, soon enough, a battlegroup of Atlesian ships set to defend Beacon until something more permanent can be established.”

“Permanent?” Jaune murmured, “As in…?”

“Ozpin detested standing armies.” Miss Goodwitch said, “James disagreed, and then proved both that they can be kept in check and do good.”

“You’re going to push for militarization?”

“To an extent, yes.” She nodded, sighing and going on resignedly, “I don’t necessarily mean to replicate James’ massive army or navy. But even if I didn’t wish to work towards this, the image of soldiers rescuing people, fighting fires, and standing against the Grimm is rooted in people’s minds.”

“Better to keep ahead of it.” Jaune nodded, smirking, “With you in charge, I’m sure it’ll run like a well-oiled machine.”

“I don’t intend to be in charge.”

“Did that save you from doing everything here?”

“I complained once about all the paperwork Ozpin didn’t do before the Battle of Beacon, Arc.” She sighed, shaking her head but smiling ever so slightly. Amusedly. “Once. Because you were brooding.”

“I don’t-”

“He doesn’t brood, or so he says.” Pyrrha chuckled, looking far too entertained when he turned a weak glare on her for it. “He just stares very intensely while glaring and thinking very hard and very deep for long periods of time.”

He sighed, shook his head, and said, “To get us back on track…”

“I have provisional Hunter license accreditation drawn up for you.” She nodded, pressing a button that had a small, translucent screen pop up from the desk. She pressed a few buttons and he felt his Scroll vibrate, opening it to a status update on his I.D.

‘Jaune Arc, Huntsman, Rank : Provisional’

“You can’t take missions with these, and they don’t apply outside the Kingdom of Vale and its protected regions.” Goodwitch explained quietly while he put his Scroll away, “But with these you can take minor assignments allotted an allowable rank, if approved by me. Once James grants you a provisional one from Atlas Academy as well, you’ll be able to do so for the Atlas military too.”

“Meaning we can work at the Archive.” Jaune surmised, smiling thinly. It would be a good place to start at least. “You could have done this through messenger, though. And I doubt you called us up here to try and convince us out of going, you knew that wouldn’t work.”

“I had some hope,” she shrugged, “but I knew you would not meet it. You’ve set your course, more or less, and I will have to respect it.”

“Thank you.” But that didn’t answer his real question so he sighed and asked, “But then, why did you call us?”

“The Vault was damaged in the fighting, but…” Goodwitch sighed and stood, straightening her glasses and stepping around the desk, leaning on it and going on, “But, before the battle, Ozpin had things he wanted to show you down there. Things he believed you might possibly know about.”

“Ah.” So, things related to Revanism or the galaxy beyond Remnant, then. “I’m no expert, but…”

“I doubt Ozpin believed you to be.” She dismissed simply, “But if there is a chance you may know something about them or, maybe, even be able to use them… Well, better you have every advantage we can find, no?”

“It can’t hurt to look…”

“No.” He nodded, standing and smiling, “I don’t think it can.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Weiss ducked under the awkward, mechanical cut of the Beacon training drone before her, Myrtenaster flicking in her right hand. The glyph the familiar, if a bit awkward, motion brought spun beneath them in shimmering white, flinging them both away, her forward and the machine back and away. She tucked her legs in to spin herself through the air and flicked Myrtenaster again, towards the wall. A black glyph spun to life there to catch her gently, letting her drop to the floor harmlessly.

The droid, on the other hand, smashed into the wall at something approaching ballistic speeds and exploded in a shower of sparks and metal.

Surrounded by a dozen broken, sparking machine corpses she let out a contented, relieved sigh, snapping the rapier up in front of her face in a traditional ready position. Turning to head for the locker room, she slid the weapon into the loop of her waist and smiled.

“You were sloppy.” Her sister said once she’d stowed her weapon and combat gear, and changed into her Beacon uniform.

“I was using my off-hand.” Weiss dismissed, taking a seat beside her sister to watch the janitorial staff clean up the debris ahead of Yang’s automated spar. “I’m still adjusting to switching from left to right.”

“I can tell.” Winter nodded, “That you can fight at all, though, with your off hand is… Admirable.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, resisting the urge to rub her right arm where it had broken during the fight, just above her elbow. “After what happened, to myself and Pyrrha both, I want to be able to fight if my sword arm gets hurt.”

“Except that your sword arm wasn’t what broke.”

“Maybe next time it will be.” She shrugged simply, scowling as she watched her carnage be swept aside. “I cannot know, and I will not die like that, helpless and weak because of a hole I could have closed.”

“I suppose that makes enough sense for me to approve of the training…”

“Thank you.” She didn’t need Winter’s approval on her training, not strictly speaking, and would have gone through it regardless. But getting her approval was still… Nice. “I managed a partial summon during the fighting. Before you… Came to relieve me.”

“Rescued you, you mean.” Winter corrected her, adding with a small, pleased look, “Though you scarcely needed it. Barely a third of the way through your first year, and you’re already so skilled. So strong. Enough to stand your ground in the midst of a battle far, far above your proverbial paygrade.”

“You were impressed, then?”

“You did well out there, Weiss. Very well, in fact.” She nodded, turning her head back to the stage as the barriers recharged and the cleaners left, staff preparing the training arena for the next bout. Weiss saw her smile ever so slightly more out of the corner of her eye as she added, quietly, “And yes, I saw your partial summon. The Arma Gigas father forced you to duel?”

“I believe so, yes.” Weiss nodded quietly, watching Ruby and her sister come out onto the arena floor. They hugged and spoke while ten of the training drones joined them, marching out behind them and then forming up across the arena. To her sister, Weiss went on, “I’ve been working on it ever since, but… I’ve yet to get more than an arm or two out at the same time. Just that is powerful, of course, but…”

“But it isn’t all that you can do.” Winter said in a soft and empathetic voice. One that spoke of a kind of understanding Weiss knew she wouldn’t get from anyone else in the world, aside from her mother. “I can understand the frustration there, Weiss, believe me. I found myself up against that wall myself for half a year.”

“I know, Winter.” She nodded, frowning thinly and watching Ruby bounce out of the arena, waving to the blonde she left behind, “So you’ve told me.”

“Weiss…” The elder Schnee laid a hand on her knee and squeezed it reassuringly, drawing Weiss’ blue-eyed gaze back up to her. Then she smiled gently and reassured her, “You’re far more powerful than I was at your age, Weiss. You lack the skill I hold, but that is experience and time. Not potential. In five years, I expect you will be as good as I am if not far, far better.”

“Oh…” That was… A lot of praise, coming from her sister. So much so that she felt her cheeks warming for it and shuffled unsurely in her seat, turning her gaze back to the arena as the alarm sounded to warn of the training match. “T-Thank you, Sister. That means a lot.”

“Mhm.” Her sister nodded and stood, sighing, “But I am afraid that my time off is up, for now, Weiss. Duty calls.”

“I understand, Sister.” Even as much as she disliked how short her sister’s visits were, the fact they existed was enough for her to be happy. Standing politely she gave her sister the smallest of nods in farewell and said, “Have a good day, and be safe, Sister.”

“I will try to.” Winter nodded, turning an analytical gaze on the Arena as Yang began tearing through the training drones. “She is moving slower than records from before the Battle of Beacon showed.”

“She is, yes.” Weiss nodded, turning to watch the woman rip the arm from one and use it to beat another to death, “But she’ll recover fully soon enough, sister. And then Team RWBY will be back on its feet, ready for whatever comes.”

“I hope so…” Winter sighed, laying a hand on her sister’s shoulder, “She still hasn’t woken up, Weiss.”

“No she hasn't.” She nodded, giving her sister a flat look and then shrugging her hand off of her. “But she will and, when she does, I’ll be there to greet her. As a proper teammate should do.”

“Sister…” Winter sighed, “Father has been trying to reach you, you know. He asked that I let you know.”

“As if my Scroll doesn’t log his calls?” She asked, laughing and shaking her head, “Inform him I know that he is calling me, and I do not, frankly, give a damn. That he is being ignored or to hear his voice. I have contracting to protect me now, and don’t want to hear from him.”

“Weiss, he’s just worried after-”

“I believe you said that you have duties to see to, Sister.” Weiss cut her off, turning as the match ended and marching away, “I have a team member to see to myself. So have a good day.”

As Weiss left she heard Winter sigh, and then the clacking of her heels on the concrete as she took her leave. For a moment, Weiss hesitated and considered turning back, to go to her sister and apologize. But the moment passed and, with a deep and steadying breath, Weiss turned and marched on.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Grimm are being pushed back away from the city’s outer perimeters with only moderate resistance, Sir.” His adjutant explained as they walked, the wiry man a step behind him and reading from the reports. “Vale’s supporting resources and auxiliary draft are relieving much of the stress on our own forces, and both resupply and reinforcements are en route from Atlas in the form of the Second Wing of the First Fleet.”

“Forward my thanks to Admiral Mets, adjutant.” They disagreed on some politics but the man was a decent enough one, in his experience.

“Of course, Sir.” He didn’t need to look to know the man had nodded, having known him long enough. 

Their briefing paused for a moment in the core of his flagship as the two of them drew out their identification for the brig guards to check. The guard wordlessly took both, inspecting them and then using his Semblance to cancel out any lingering Aura on them, and thus any Semblance induced changes. They’d lost Torchwick, in the end, to such tricks, and he wasn’t about to risk allowing it again.

Not now or ever.

“How are our security enhancements going?” He asked as they walked the thankfully mostly empty light containment cells on the outermost sections of the brig. 

“Very well, Sir.” The man answered quietly, shuffling through his Scroll for the reports and explaining quietly, “By the end of this week all armories will be outfitted with finger-print identification systems, and personal quarters will be PIN-locked by unit. The Council has forwarded a list of recommended security measures as well, for your review.”

“The short version?”

“I can compile the list later, but among them are preferential recruitment offers for Atlesian nationals, rather than foreign nationals or village citizens.” The adjutant explained quietly, “It also includes preferential treatment over Mantle recruits, though the payment and education offers aren’t altered for them.”

“What is?”

“More intensive scrutiny, mainly, General.” He answered, “More intensive background checks, communications monitoring, and a prioritization of their deployment to territories outside Mantle continental. And, of course, the city.”

“Hm.” It was wrong, in a way, and he knew that. But this attack had been caused by terrorists and arrests showed some had come from Mantle, originally... “No, we won’t give in to fear and push even more of our own people away, into the arms of the enemy.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“Speak to the lawyers stationed aboard about more intensive scrutiny, though.” He added, adding even further, “Across the board, however. I will not be seen to discriminate against people who wish to serve Remnant alongside Atlas.”

“Aye, General.”

“The rest of the more important reports?”

“Ah, yes, the anti-Grimm campaign.” The adjutant nodded as Ironwood came to a stop in front of one of the higher security, occupied cells. After a moment, the old man spoke, “Synthetic casualties are well within the margin of predicted losses, and more than sustainable. The Council of Vale has offered to appropriate industrial factories to help with repair and resupply of the units, however. So long as-”

“-they remain Valean run.” Ironwood filled in with a sigh, “Yes, an old trick. We’d need to issue them our production designs and share our technology. Which while not problematic on its own is still very illegal.”

“The fleet is en route with more than enough units to resupply us in any event.” The man nodded, “As well as reinforcements for deployed Human forces, as I said prior, Sir. Allied and Atlas casualties in that department are more than manageable, and for fact below expected margins in wounded and others alike.”

“Good.” He nodded, “Send orders to hold current defensive lines and await reinforcements. Once they arrive, withdraw to established defensive zones for resupply and replacement as needed.”

“The defensive zones?”

“I will establish them before reinforcements arrive.” He answered simply, “If nothing else is pressing?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then dismissed, Adjutant.” He grunted shortly, waiting until the man had taken his leave in full and vanished up the hall before he turned to the door. 

Straightening first his uniform and then his hair, he drew his access card and scanned it over the electronic lock. It beeped quietly and then slid open to admit him. Inside, the holding cell was simple enough. There was a simple cot against the far wall, its metal frame moulded into the hull of the cell itself just like the toilet at the foot of the cot. A cot with a single man in white prisoner clothes sitting in its center, legs folded and eyes closed.

He’d have thought he was meditating if not for his omnipresent scowl.

“Taurus.” He greeted simply, clasping his hands behind his waist and raising his nose at the man. “How are we doing today?”

“Hmph.” Adam Taurus grunted, closing the one eye left bare by the simple medical wrapping he’d been given to cover his scars in. “Same as always, General. Potatoes, pork, and nothing to do but sit and wait for my people to rescue me.”

“Your people believe you to be in Atlas at the moment, Taurus.” He informed him, smiling thinly when the man’s glower deepened. He didn’t open his eye, though, or move from his spot. After a moment, James sighed, “I spoke to some of Atlas’ best surgeons about your scars. According to them-”

“No.” The man growled, good eye cracking open to meet Ironwood’s two with more than enough heat to compensate for his missing blue. After a moment, the cold blue eye closed and Adam sighed, “I’m entirely uninterested in Atlas surgeons, Ironwood.”

“Then perhaps-”

“You seem very keen on fixing me, General.” His eye opened again and this time, Adam smiled, “Is that the Atlesian in you? Wanting to make me look how you think I should?”

“It’s not like that-”

“I’m sure.” Adam chuckled, shaking his horned head, “And the Schnees don’t victimize us either. Right? What was the official position again? I remember you read it out on live television. Oh, right, I remember it was-”

“The SDC does not discriminate against its employees on the bases of race or class according to any officially recognized investigation.” James nodded, frowning, “And that remains true, too. In large part thanks to your people’s-”

“My people’s?” Adam interrupted, laughing fakely, “My, my, General. And I thought I was the one going mask off here.”

“We both know that you know what people I meant, Taurus.” The response wasn’t what the Faunus wanted, apparently, growling and closing his eye again. After a moment, Ironwood sighed, “Fine. Keep the SDC label branded onto your face, Taurus. It isn’t my problem. Neither is the fact that in court, those bandages won’t be allowed.”

“I’m sure I’ll find some way to live with that.”

“Hmph.” The terrorist wouldn’t get the option, he supposed, once it was all said and done. “The plea agreement I told you about is processed. All it requires is your consent and a signature, and you could-”

“A cell is a cell.” Adam dismissed easily, “You won’t get anything from me, Ironwood.”

“The Council is pushing for execution-”

“Let them.” He shrugged, “Better dead than a puppet for the Humans. And besides, even if I agreed to your demands, my people,” she sneered the word, “would kill me for the traitor I’d be.”

“Fine comrades you have, then.”

“I’d deserve it.” Taurus shrugged, “Grimm, I’m half-tempted to take you up on the offer so they do come and kill me. If only because I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore, and it would be a lot of egg on your face.”

“This offer won’t be on the table forever, Taurus.”

“And yet it’s been there for a month while your Human forces have been fighting.” The man shook his head, “And yet I’m pretty sure I saw several Faunus guards, when my food’s been delivered.”

“Atlas employs Faunus as well as Human forces.” He explained quietly, half turned with a hand resting on the door release. “We don’t discriminate in Atlas. It’s illegal to do so.”

“And yet,” Adam smiled, “your man called your forces Human forces. Faunus erasure, plain as day or night.”

“A technical term-”

Make your excuses to someone not marked for them bing bunk, General.” The Faunus dismissed him, resuming his pseudo meditations as the door slid open and Ironwood stepped through. Before it closed, the Faunus added a bored, “See you tomorrow.”

What aggravated Ironwood the most was that he had planned on coming to see him again tomorrow. He needed the young man’s information quite badly, to root out the White Fang. But now he either had to prove Taurus right, or let him be left alone for a day. Neither of which got him what he needed.

Striding away he brought up his Scroll and snapped, “Get me the legal team. I want a protocol change. I want to revise our technical terminology.”

Unknown to the General, Adam smiled in his cell.

XxX----XxX----XxX

The first, proper, if a bit short, introductory chapter of the new fic! This one features several of the places of focus for this story. In fact, all of them I have intended, as of now, aside from one. Those being Jaune/Juniper, team RWBY, Ironwood and, the one not shown here, Cinder. 

Hope you enjoyed it!

Also, dumbass comment here, but Blackimus Prime is following this story and I legitimately choked on my soda when I saw that name. Hi there! You almost killed Author-chan! 

XD

XxX----XxX----XxX

Fic Eater :

I intend to separate them, as made clear at the start of this chapter.

Steel Rain :

Glad you enjoy it so much. As for space n’ ships ‘n stuff, can’t comment on it since that’d be spoilers.

Chris Adair :

Yep, and the sequel is up!

Zenith Tempest :

Always have faith in the author, friendo.


	3. Quiet Visits

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Official Supporters: 

Priests, The Impossible Muffin, Xager the Chaos King, Not Tsundere Bean. 

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Ze Nope Rope, Kaiser Snek, Snekiest Snek

Acolytes, DigiDemonLord, Cheeseberry

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Ironwood had always been taught and believed, from childhood, to training and then to his staffing assignments, that a sign of an effective military leader was the state of their office. Even in the direst times, an officer of rank sufficient to have a personal office should have their floors cleaned, their shelves well-ordered, and their papers cleanly sorted and stacked on their desks.

‘Even in the middle of a crisis, you should always keep to order.’ His father had once said once upon a time, helping him reorder his books on his shelf late at night, when one of the shelves had fallen out and spilled his books across the floor of his room. ‘Keeping order is a man’s highest duty. No matter what comes, keep to order.’

And so here he was, an hour past the end of his itinerary shift.

Still in his office.

Trying to get the paperwork on his desk signed, organized, and ready to go out come the morning.

Trying and, safely, failing, thanks to his throbbing head and aching shoulder. His medicine wasn’t doing the job, again, and hadn’t really fared well at it since the Battle. Sighing and pinching his nose, he tugged out his Scroll and flicked it open on his desk, finger flicking through the contents for-

“Ah.” He blinked, and then sighed, shaking his head and closing the device. Ozpin hadn’t made contact in his new body just yet, so he couldn’t call him up and ask him over for tea. “And even if he had, he wouldn’t be here yet… Or strong enough to help.”

Rolling his stiff shoulder, he turned back to his work, reading through the next field report, detailing a defensive action against Grimm threatening a nearby village. It had been a simple affair, barely more than a pack of Beowolves and a small herd of Ursai, dealt with by a squad of regulars, a single Specialist, and a Bullhead for aerial support. No casualties aside from a broken arm, too.

And a very happy village singing Atlas’ praises.

And Vale’s too, of course.

Smiling, he signed his acknowledgement of the report and set it on the stack of the same at one corner of his desk. His smile fading, he reached for the next report on the other corner, signing his name at the top of the manilla folder holding and then flipping it open to read it. It was more of the same, a Grimm defense with a handful of men and aircraft, but hey. This time it was a fort they’d defended, not a village.

So, points for being different, if nothing else.

He heard a knock on his office’s door and sighed, already knowing who it would be even as his hand slipped under the desk to hit the unlock button. 

“Winter.” He nodded as he heard her heels on the metal, approaching him. “You should be in your quarters.”

“That makes two of us, Sir.” She answered sharply, setting a large, lidded serving tray on his desk and then turning to retrieve his second chair from where it rested in the corner, when he didn’t expect to play host. “But,” she said as she sat, “neither of us are in our quarters. Are we, Sir?”

“Just because I have work keeping me busy doesn’t mean you have to spend your evening here, Winter.” He argued, fighting desperately not to smell the food she’d brought. “Your free time is yours.”

“I know.” She smiled, leaning forward to lift the lid off and setting it on the floor, nudging a small tray of stir-fried rice, chicken and vegetables to him while she took her own. “And I choose to spend my free time ensuring you eat properly, Sir.”

“Winter…” He sighed, setting the report aside and taking the plate, “Tending to me isn’t your duty, Winter.”

“Nor is seeing to and managing the defense of a separate Kingdom yours.” She shrugged, setting a chilled bottle of water in front of each of them and turning the platter so he could reach his fork. “We are all of us seeing to duties not quite our own of late, General. The men don’t begrudge theirs, you don’t begrudge yours, and I do not begrudge mine.”

“I see.” He smiled, “Thank you.”

“Meds first.” She chided as he started to take a bite, the man rolling his eyes and pulling the bottle of pills out. Smiling, she watched him take them and then offered, quietly, “You’re welcome.”

“Mhm.” He grunted, choking down the pills and then turning to his food. Taking a bite he asked around it, “How is your sister?”

“Better.” She nodded, picking out a piece of chicken and balancing it on her spoon while she went on, “I saw her the other day, sparring alongside her team’s other wounded member. Both are recovering steadily.”

“I’m glad” He nodded, “Team RWBY demonstrated remarkable bravery during the battle. Weiss is no exception to that.”

“That they did, Sir.” Winter smiled proudly, “Weiss acquitted herself, and her name, quite well during the Battle. Were it not for her

“I’ve considered offering them medals.” He commented quietly, pausing to take a drink and, subtly, see what the woman thought of that. Bright eyes flicked to him in surprise and pride and he smiled, explaining as he sat his water down again, “Ruby Rose put herself between me and a powerful combatant, to protect me and our collective objective alike. Miss Xiao Long also suffered grievous injury to protect her team leader. And your sister, caught by surprise, coordinated a defensive maneuver with local forces and succeeded at holding the line.”

“Yes, she- I mean, they did and… I’m very proud of her for it, too.” Winter nodded, slowly setting her spoon beside her food. “And her team, of course. But aside from Atlas Academy students, Atlas can only offer medals to our own soldiers and accredited Huntsmen and Huntresses.”

“I know.” He nodded slowly, taking, chewing and swallowing a bite before he turned to her, “Which is why I am considering offering them Atlesian licenses.”

“What?!” Her eyes widened and she almost stood, before she caught herself. Instead, quieter, she said, “They’re all too young, General Ironwood. And they’re only first years besides, Sir. They aren’t ready for-”

“Winter.” His simple, quiet word silenced her, the woman grimacing and easing back into her seat. Setting his spoon aside and interlacing his fingers, he rested his chin on top of them and sighed, “I know that they are not quite ready. And I know that you are worried about your sister. I understand it, believe me.”

“But…?”

“But we need the morale boost that would come with a proper award ceremony.” He said simply, “We have numerous soldiers and Hunters that we can award. Further, if we license them then we can monitor their situations. And by explaining that Miss Rose fought in my defence, and publicly awarding her for it, we explain their protective detail.”

“Removing them from public scrutiny.” Winter filled in, grimacing tightly, “The enemy is no doubt aware of their fourth’s condition, though.”

“Yes, but I can’t do much of anything to resolve that problem, unfortunately.” Ironwood sighed tiredly, reclining in his chair and eyeing his mostly eaten meal. “As licensed Atlesian Hunters, they would also be granted citizenship. Meaning that I can station a protective detail at Beacon Academy under my own authority.”

“Circumventing politics and procedure, and keeping the secrets involved more tightly held.” Winter nodded, taking a bite of her food and sighing, “Clever.”

“Mhm.” He sighed, “It is.”

“You sound… Bothered, Sir.” Winter murmured, drumming the fingers of one hand on the table while she ate with the other, “Would it be… Impudent to ask why?”

“I’m using a loophole to avoid dealing with proper legal procedure.” Ironwood explained quietly, “I’m an elected official, serving our legal body. But for my own ends, for my own convenience, I’m… Flaunting them.”

“For good reasons.”

“Every criminal would say they did what they did for good reasons, Schnee.” He sighed, “I’d put good Lien on Taurus saying he had good reasons, too.”

“You’re not the same as him, General-”

“I know that, Winter.” He grunted, setting his plate on the tray and taking a final drink from his water. Quietly, he went on, “Intellectually, I understand the differences. The significance of our fight, my decisions. But emotionally…”

“Not so much.” She sighed understandingly, setting her empty plate atop his and putting the lid back on the tray. As she worked, she spoke, “I understand the dilemma, Sir. But for what little my opinion is worth-”

“Your opinions are worth quite a bit to me, Winter.” He pointed out, draggin the report from earlier back in front of him and skimming it. “Never believe that how you feel, or what you think, isn’t something I would want to know.”

“I… Understand, Sir.” She murmured after a moment, retaking her seat, “I, um… Thank you, General. That means a lot, to me.”

“I know.” Her father, for his many faults, could never count being an overly attentive parent among them. He knew very well by now what that had done to her, and what being listened to really meant to her. Setting the report aside, his signature emblazoned on it, he prompted her gently, “Your opinion, Specialist Schnee?”

“Oh, um, right.” She stammered, thinking for a moment and then going on, “I was going to say that the differences don’t just end at the causes that you and Taurus fight for, Sir.”

“Oh?” Ironwood gave her a look, one brow raised, “Such as? I’m presuming that you mean beyond the obvious moral differences.”

“I do.” She paid him a small, warm smile, “Taurus, by all accounts from those we’ve captured, had no one who challenged his decisions. Who challenged his decisions if and when they thought them wrong.”

“And I have you.” He filled in, giving her a smile of his own, “Is that it?”

“A-And the Ace-Ops, but, well…” She flushed and sighed, looking away with a frown, “As I said, it is a difference. And, in my opinion, a substantial one. It won’t be particularly easy to fall down the slippery slope with us watching you, and offering our thoughts on your plans and decisions.”

“True enough, I suppose.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he signed and set aside another report. The last one for the night, he decided after a moment, standing and sighing again, “I think that will be all, for the night, Winter.”

“It should be.” She nodded, standing with the tray balanced on a hand and her half-full bottle of water in the other. “It is rather late, General Ironwood. And you have a lot to do tomorrow. And a lot to consider, besides.”

“I’m aware.” He sighed, looking at the half-stack left of reports Finally, resignedly, he shook his head and turned from the work, “Get word out to Specialist Clover. Tell him I need him to vett a candidate to serve as my assistant. I can’t properly process all this paperwork on my own.”

“Understood.” She nodded, “Why Ebi, Sir?”

“Why do you think?”

“Semblance.”

“Semblance.” He confirmed with a little nod and laugh, “Don’t tell him I said it, but… I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered benching him, to run reports and paperwork. Ever since the Arc inquiries… Well, I suppose it speaks for itself.”

“It does.” She nodded, “Will that be all then, Sir?”

“It will.” He nodded, following the woman towards the door. Turning the lights off and locking the door, he paid her a farewell nod, “Good night, Winter.”

“And to you, General.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

As she had done for nearly a month and a half now, Weiss woke up stiff and aching. At first, it had been because of her cast and the broken bones. While she was healing she’d had to be restrained to sleep, to prevent her from irritating her injury while she rested. But, secured so she couldn’t move, she always woke up aching, sore, chafing and stiff. A far cry better than waking up screaming for agony in her arm, but an annoyance all the same.

Now, she was stiff because the hospital beds were utter trash.

“I can’t wait to sleep in our own beds again.” Weiss murmured, sitting in one of several chairs they’d borrowed from the nurse’s station. Watching Yang pointedly not use them and instead stalk up and down the hall in front of her, Weiss sighed, “Don’t you agree, Yang?”

“Yep.” She grunted, offering a single raised thumb to her as she passed.

“Real food appeals, too. Hot, fresh meals made by real chefs...” Weiss murmured, “At least, having them on a regular basis does. Yang?”

“Sounds good, Weiss.”

“Uh huh.” She sighed, resting her chin on her hands and watching Yang pace by again, “And I certainly can’t wait for your sister and I’s date, whenever we finally get out of here. Why, I’ve even got hotel rooms reserved, just for us.”

“Mhm.” She nodded as she passed by, “Sounds fun.”

Flicking a hand as she passed by again, Weiss summoned a Gravity glyph, locking Yang’s feet into place. The blonde flinched, squeaked in surprise and jerked to a stop, arms flailing at her side as she tried unnecessarily to regain her balance. Once she saw Weiss’ black glyph, and realized she couldn’t fall down, she turned a scowl on the Schnee.

“What the hell, Weiss?!”

“I’m sorry, did you think pacing a hole in the floor would help you with… Whatever this is?” Weiss asked quietly, giving one of the Atlesian guards across from her an exhausted look. After a moment, the soldier shrugged and, figuring that was all the support she was about to get from them, Weiss turned back to Yang, “They’ll be here in a moment. Calm. Down.”

“B-But what if they-”

“If they blame you for what happened, their opinions aren’t worth worrying about.” Weiss cut her off sharply, waving her concerns off with a hand and smiling reassuringly. “They’d be fools to blame you, and not at all the kinds of people that would have given life to someone as honorable and just as Blake.”

“Y-Yeah.” She nodded, lips pressed into a thin line, “I, uh, guess you’re right…”

“I always am.” Weiss smiled sweetly, letting it die a fiery death a moment later as she cocked her head and pointed at the seat beside her, “Now then. Sit. Down. Before I break both of your knees and tie you to this chair, Xiao Long.”

“Damn, Weiss-cream.” Yang chuckled, giving the same guard Weiss had looked at earlier a look of her own, cocking a hip and raising an eyebrow, “You gonna just let her threaten me like that, soldier boy?”

“Girl.” The woman grunted quietly, “Armor isn’t very flattering.”

“Ah.” Yang blinked, “Sorry.”

“No problem.” She shrugged, “Also, yes, I’m going to let her threaten you like that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Probably because you were annoying the Grimm out of her, too, Xiao Long.” Weiss suggested, smiling sweetly, “You’re really rather good at annoying people, after all.”

The blonde gasped and pressed a hand to her chest in theatrical, feigned shock and gave the armored woman a scandalized look. The soldier shrugged and Yang rolled her eyes, plopping down into the seat beside Weiss and staring death up at the roof. For a few minutes, the blonde was quiet. Uncomfortably so, to Weiss’ mind, too.

But at least she’d stopped pacing.

Weiss had learned, by now, to count the little victories and enjoy them, when she got them.

“You really think they won’t be mad, Weiss?” Yang finally asked quietly, still staring death up at the roof, her foot bouncing anxiously. “I couldn’t protect her, Weiss. If I… If it was my daughter, in there, like that, I’d be mad at me, too.”

“No, you wouldn't.” Weiss corrected her simply, shrugging when Yang’s gaze snapped to her, “You’re a brute, Yang. And loud, and delinquent, and rude, and good stars you’re loud-”

“Does this have a point…?”

“The point,” Weiss smiled, watching the same slowly stretch over Yang’s features, “is that you’re a good person, Yang. You aren’t the type to hold what someone can’t help against them. Race, sex, name… The tide of a fight or other things that we are not allowed to talk about right now.”

“You sound so confident.” Yang chuckled, “I almost believe you…”

“You should.” Weiss smirked, folding her arms across her chest, “I’m always right, after all.”

“I guess, yeah.” Yang shrugged, going back to staring up at the ceiling quietly. 

Minus the death glare, though.

And again, small victories.

“Ma’ams.” The guard grunted quietly, a few moments later, “The Belladonnas just reached the checkpoint with your team leader. They’re being checked right now, and… Specialist Amin thought you two might want a second’s heads up, and passed the word.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Weiss nodded, giving Yang a worried, sidelong look. When her knee only sped up its bouncing and her fingers started drumming on her knees anxiously, Weiss sighed, and took one of the brawler’s hot, calloused hands in her own. Smiling when the blonde turned to her, Weiss tried to reassure her, “It’ll be fine, Yang.”

“I know, I just-”

“I know.” She gave the brawler’s hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled thinly, “Just breathe.”

“Yeah.” Yang sighed, squeezing Weiss’ hand in return, “I’m working on it.”

They heard the two faunus coming before they saw them, or rather, they heard Ruby leading them before they saw them. The young woman had volunteered for it, probably for an excuse to move rather than wait anxiously like they had. And now, she was leading the two Faunus back and chattering excitedly about, of all things, Crescent Rose’s new magnification set-up.

Because Ruby Rose would never change, short of the Grimm conquering the world.

Which, from what her Uncle had told them, and everything else they’d learned before-hand…

“Obsessing will do nothing but give you wrinkles and headaches, Weiss.” She told herself, shaking the worries off and standing to meet her teammate’s parents.

Blake’s mother, in Weiss’ opinion, looked like a carbon copy of Blake herself. Albeit older, with the slightest of wrinkles on her tired, but smiling face. And obvious maturity, to her frame and her eyes. Eyes which found Weiss and widened ever-so-slightly before she calmed herself and laid a hand on her husband’s arm, whispering something to him that only he could hear as they approached.

And speaking of Blake’s father…

“By the gods,” Weiss thought, flushing slightly, “her poor pelvis…”

Where Blake’s mother was like Blake herself, relatively thin and lithe but with more than enough muscle Weiss could see to pose a threat, her father was a positive bear of a man. He towered over each of Weiss’ team, his own wife, and the soldiers and droids he passed by, and stood as wide as two of Weiss besides, trundling along beside his wife with heavy but measured steps. The kind that said he knew how large and imposing he was, and was used to people reacting negatively to it.

So, if he was used to people reacting negatively…”

“Mister Belladonna.” Weiss nodded, folding her hands politely in front of her and flicking her gaze to the woman, “Missus Belladonna. It’s… Well, a pleasure to meet you, if I set aside the reasons for it.”

“Yo.” Yang grunted beside her, still apparently anxious enough to find it hard to find words.

“You must be Weiss.” The gargantuan man rumbled, laying a hand on the back of his wife’s shoulders that stretched from the outside of one shoulder to the other. He offered his other and smiled, “And I feel the same, about meeting you and the reasons for it.”

“Of course.” She smiled, taking his hand and shaking it as firmly as she could.

He was remarkable gentle with her hand, enough that she blinked at it, and the feeling of barely concealed claws on her wrist. Laughing, the Faunus withdrew and held his hand up, flexing his fingers and pushing out short but razor sharp claws, “They’re tearing claws, not cutting. So don’t worry, I won’t hurt you with them.”

“I, uh…” She swallowed, looking at them and fighting the instinctive urge to flare her Aura, “I wasn’t aware that there was a difference, Chieftain Belladonna.”

“They’re like teeth, dear.” Blake’s mother chuckled tiredly, turning her head to flash her own razor sharp canines at her and pointing at them, “These are cutting, for instance. Just like yours are, just… Bigger.”

“And some big wildcats have gripping and ripping claws instead of cutting ones.” Yang filled in quietly from behind her, shifting side-to-side awkwardly, “It’s so they can grip prey and drag them down to get their teeth in. They kill with their teeth rather than their claws.”

“You’re rather knowledgeable about big cats.” Blake’s mom purred, sidling up to the blonde and wrapping an arm around the suddenly wide-eyed woman’s shoulder, “Is there a reason you know so very, very much about big cats, Miss Xiao Long?”

“Y-You can call me Yang.” The blonde stammered, standing stiff and anxiously, “A-And, um, I like… Animals.”

“You can both call us Kali and Ghira, then.” Kali smiled, hugging the blushing blonde tighter against her shoulder and smiling widely. Still smiling, the woman asked, quietly, “And is it animals you like, or Faunus? Or, maybe, one in particular?”

“N-Nope!” Yang forced, waving a hand at Ruby, “Back me up, Rubes!”

“I thought you only liked dogs, though, Sis.” Ruby murmured quietly, standing beside Weiss with her head cocked to the side, “I remember you always complained when Daddy sent us into Patch, to work on that little farm when we were kids.”

“I-I, um, I mean…” Yang’s protests died a fiery, pitiful death, the blonde hanging her head and letting out a low, keening noise.

“Dear,” Ghira prompted quietly, smiling thinly under tired, weary eyes, “have mercy on the poor girl, would you?”

“But Ghiraaaa….”

“Now, now.” The man rumbled, Yang looking up to him in clear hope. His warm smile turned predatory, suddenly, and he added, “It’s fairly obvious she wasn’t ready to meet the parents, yet, Kali.”

Yang’s hopeful eyes widened and then she flushed, spluttering her responses for several long, amusing moments before she finally threw her hands up in surrender. “Fine, I looked up cat claws a few days before the shit went down so I’d know what I might be dealing with, sue me!”

Rumbling a laugh, Ghira turned to his wife, “I think it’s time we visit our daughter, and have mercy on her… Partner, don’t you?”

“Oh, alright.” Kali sighed, letting the blonde woman go and turning to the door. More soberly, she asked, “Is, uh, this the right room?”

“It is.” Weiss nodded as they formed up at the door. Looking at the woman, she added, “Do you… Want to see her alone?”

“Please.” She nodded, giving Weiss a small look, her eyes already watery, “If you don’t mind, that is.”

The three RWBY members, of course, told them that they didn’t. And then spent the next twenty minutes or so sitting together on those seats, waiting until they were done with their private visit. Neither Ruby or Yang wanted to sit beside the door, so Weiss took the spot herself. And if Weiss heard low, keening sobs, and a pleading ‘Blake’...

Well, she didn’t see any reason to say anything about it.

XxX----XxX----XxX

No Jaune or Juniper in this chapter. Instead, Irondaddy and RWBY split the chapter between them. Next chapter will probably be almost completely just a Juniper chapter, so don’t worry.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Zenith Tempest :

Yeah, Ironwood is not aware of the fullest extent of what Jaune can do. Both because Jaunue hasn’t said and because Jaune isn’t a master, yet, and can’t do some things just yet.

Dr Kilinger :

He didn’t get ‘turned into’ anything. Literally the only point he isn’t being a possessive manchild blowing things up to ‘get back what’s his’ was in Blake’s trailer, before he lost her. And for like, a third of his trailer.

Beyond that? He’s always been this character. He’s Gaston and the Cursed Rose, and expecting anything but what fits that isn't going to let you enjoy the story. That includes many of mine and RT’s.

Just a word to the wise.

Greer 123 :

Adam is nothing if not clever.

Or, well, I mean he’s a lot of things. Abusive, bull-headed - *snickering sounds* - a good fighter, way too narrow-minded.

But, uh, clever is in that list!

Argus :

Politics, as ever, are a beast to properly convey in a story. I just hope I properly convey that angle, military policy and the politics it is shaped by and shapes and the politics around what happened during the Battle of Beacon, well as things go. And the large, black, furry consequences that naturally come as a result of it. 

Smokey Panda :

Yes!

You should have!

Blackimus Prime :

Hey, I aim to please.


	4. Visions of the Past

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Official Supporters: 

Priests, The Impossible Muffin, Xager the Chaos King, Not Tsundere Bean. 

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Ze Nope Rope, Kaiser Snek, Snekiest Snek

Acolytes, DigiDemonLord, Cheeseberry

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

The Vault beneath Beacon was still in shambles even a month and change after the Battle of Beacon, when Goodwitch brought him into it. The great hunks of smoothly cut stone had mostly been left where they’d fallen when he ripped them down. They were surrounded by splashes of shattered mortar, loose soil and smaller rocks pulled down from the earth above the stonework itself that looked almost like massive bloodstains. Long metal rods, used to support the roof above, stuck into the air like hagged fingers, crossed in places by thick cables and wires that sparked intermittently.

It was a mess to say the very least, but at least it didn’t block off most of the rooms that Goodwitch wanted him to look at.

“Ozpin had his own sorting method.” Goodwitch explained quietly as they made their way through the wreckage, “And I’m afraid I haven't had the time to go through the repositories themselves.”

“Of course not, you have more than enough on your plate as it is.” And he was pretty sure that the mess was not helping her in that regard, either. “You haven’t started repairing down here, yet?”

“James is vetting engineers and laborers to clean it out, and operatives to monitor the drones they’d be using besides.” The woman answered as they neared the end of the great hall, and the broken pods that had been tied up in the fate of so many. “Once that is subtly sorted,” she went on, “the mess will be cleared away.”

“I suppose it’s also not that important, relatively speaking.” Pyrrha added from beside him, her heels clicking with every step as she surveyed the damage he’d done. Absently, she added a quiet, “And remind me not to make you angry, Jaune…”

He only chuckled, shaking his head, “You are pretty good at agitating me sometimes, Pyr. But I don’t think you’ll ever get me to this kind of anger.”

“Oh?” The woman smiled almost roguishly, raising one brow in challenge, “Perhaps I ought to up my efforts, then.”

“So you’re aware, children.” Goodwitch called over her shoulder, smiling thinly, “I do intend you to leave alone down here, but there are cameras for security. I would very much rather not find something in those records that I don’t need to be privy to.”

“H-Headmistress!”

“We’ll at least keep all our clothes on down here, Goodwitch.” He promised, laughing at the embarrassed hiss of his red-faced partner when she rounded on him. Laughing, he raised his arm to block the playful slap she sent his way and asked, quietly, “Which rooms are we allowed to look through?”

“Any of the ones in this hall.” She answered quietly as they came to a stop at the entrance to one of the many long hallways that split off from the main chamber of the Vault. “They are, all of them, filled with artifacts not of this world, by Ozpin’s estimations. Some have already been examined and catalogued, but…”

“But they were catalogued and organized by Ozpin himself, so you don't really know much about them?” He guessed, eyeing the odd letter-number seriel system Ozpin seemed to have invented himself. 

At least, it didn’t correspond to any he knew. 

“He made the serializing system himself, yes.” She nodded simply, looking at the somewhat foreign code on the little silver plaque he was inspecting. “He has a handful of notes on it in his office, I believe. Or, well, in my office, now, I suppose.”

“That will take some time to adjust to, I imagine.” Pyrrha murmured sympathetically, folding her arms across her chest beside him. 

“Yes, well…” Goodwitch shrugged and chuckled, gently, “My life has for years now been full of things I have been made to adjust to, over time.”

“You’ve survived.” Was all he said to the older woman, shrugging and receiving the same in return. “Notes on how he organizes things sound useful, though. If you have time…?”

“I’ll use my lunch and dinner hours to compile whatever I can find and get them to you.” Goodwitch promised quietly, frowning tightly and taking a short breath before, finally, saying what she had on her mind. “Along with everything else, though, I… Do have a moderate piece of rather sour news, I’m afraid.”

“Of course you do…” He sighed, turning a glare on the woman standing at the hall’s head, “I don’t suppose that it’s the kind of sour news that means Pyrrha and I are forced to stay here, at Beacon, for a while. Is it?”

“I’m… Afraid it is, actually.” Glynda answered quietly, shifting slightly on the spot as his lips dragged down, into a frown. “Although, if you prefer, I can arrange lodging in Vale itself. And transport up here, to look through what we have here.”

“Vale or Beacon, it’s all the same.” He argued quietly, taking one step closer to the woman. He was still a couple feet away, of course, closer to the plaque he’d been at than he was the older woman. But he knew she knew how little that mattered, and he felt the slightest pang of her anxiety echo around her for it, “Either way, I’m here, where you can keep me in your sight and under your thumb.”

“That isn’t what I’m-”

“I’m sure it isn’t.” Jaune grunted, “But it’s not inconvenient for you, is it?”

“Jaune.” Pyrrha’s hand on his arm, as always, drew him back and made him take a breath. She gave him a look, and gave him a little shake of her head. And he gave her an agitated, sidelong glance before he sighed and nodded, stepping back and letting her step forward instead. “I’m going to choose to believe that you’re not playing with us, Headmistress. But I hope you understand my partner’s suspicions.”

“I do, yes.” Goodwitch nodded, “Ozpin was a many of many virtues. But his proclivity to manipulate and control people was not one of them.”

“You didn’t seem particularly vocal about opposing it at the time.” 

“I didn’t disagree with him doing it.” She answered flatly, frowning when he huffed a bitter little laugh at it. “Lest you forget, Mister Arc, Ozpin is an ally that I have worked with for nearly two and a half decades. He earned my trust through all of that time and so I do not mind being controlled and manipulated. If he believes it to be for the best, then I will trust his judgement.”

“Spoken like someone who's never paid for it.” Jaune grunted, flinching at the sheer sense of malice that slammed into him when the words left his mouth.

“Do not,” the woman growled, glaring balefully at him, her hand balled into a fist at her side, “presume that my trust is naivete. I have lost much, fighting Ozpin’s war, trusting him the way I have had to. Friends, opportunity, family, lov-” 

She cut herself off with a hiss of breath, closed her eyes, and he could feel her force herself to calm down. Trembling slightly, she forced her hand to uncurl, the crushed pen clattering to the floor beside her. 

Finally, she let the breath out, half-turning to leave, “I’ll see the notes gathered for you, Mister Arc. If you get hungry, or desire a break from your studies here, in the Vault, your Scroll has access to the elevator. Oz- My office, the entry floor and here. You may come and go as you please, and aren’t required to attend any classes, lectures or training. You also have access to the training arena and equipment room, if you need either.”

“Thank you, Headmistress.” He murmured, tugging absent-mindedly on his chin-braid and nodding, “Goodwitch, I’m sorry for-”

“Quite.” She nodded, striding away and calling back, “Good night.

Together, and quietly, he and Pyrrha watched the older Huntress make her way back around the rubble and through the Vault. She never once looked back, even though he was sure she could feel their eyes on her back. She stepped into the elevator eventually and had to turn towards them to press the button, but even then she kept her gaze on the wall and then brought her Scroll up, typing away at it rather than even look at them.

And all the while, he could feel her tempest of emotions - pain, loss, anger, resignation - whipping around the Vault.

“Jaune…”

“I know, Pyr.” He sighed, turning and giving her a small, apologetic smile, one hand tugging his braid straight while the other drummed absently on his thigh. “I was… Definitely in the wrong, there. I just… Being here, you know?”

“I know, Jaune. Believe me, I know.” She sighed, looking around hidden, the rubble-strewn battlefield and frowning. “I… Hate being down here. It’s where I was supposed to die, where I almost did. And where I still lost part of myself, even if I did manage to survive in the end. Something I’ll never get back…”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “And it’s where I lost control, and gave in to the Dark Side entirely, too…”

“Is that so meaningful, that you would compare it to my own loss?” He could tell from her tone, and the simple way she raised her brow, that the question was a genuine one. Not one meant as a reprisal for some perceived malice.

She knew him significantly better than that.

“Falling to the Dark Side is a Jedi’s worst fear and a Revanite’s as well.” He explained quietly, turning a long, slow look over the damage he’d caused. “The verbage varies a bit between Jedi and Sith, but the way I mean it is losing yourself to it. Becoming little more than an animal that can talk and swing a lightsaber, tearing through the world until something bigger and stronger beats you down and puts you in the ground...”

“It sounds horrible…”

“You lose a part of yourself.” He nodded gravely, “The darkness takes you, rips you up, and uses you. That is why I hate being here, too. Along with what happened to you, of course. It’s all…”

“It’s a lot to bear, I know.” Pyrrha said understandingly, stepping in front of him and leaning in to press a chaste kiss against his lips. The suddenness of it surprised him and he blinked, but she bounced away before he could really react, and she smiled, “You and I are alive and, if not whole, we are well enough. And I shall always be here, to pull you up if you start to fall.”

“Thanks, Pyr.” He smiled, feeling the warmth in his chest. Then he waved a hand at the door beside the plaque he’d been reading and asked quietly, “So, uh, want to start here, then?”

“It is as good a place as any, I suppose.” She nodded, “And I am so curious to see what else came from that outer world…”

“What else…?” He asked, turning a curious look on her.

“What is out there, beyond our skies, brought you to me.” She answered sweetly, smiling warmly at him as she reached for the door release, “That itself is a wonder of the world, to me. And so I wonder, what else shall the outer world bring? What wonders? What mystery and mysticism?”

“Ah.” He chuckled, “You're in a pretty dramatic mood for what’s probably just a bunch of junk.”

“Oh yes, it probably is, a lot of it.” She said more seriously as the door opened. Smiling, she added, “But, even if nothing down here actually helps us, the chance to learn more about your culture is… Well, more than enough pay for the work, in my humble opinion.”

That drew a flush from him that he could feel, burning on his cheeks. He nodded and, quietly, murmured, “I’ll, uh, try and explain whatever I can, then, Pyr.”

The room they stepped into was stacked, floor to ceiling, with shelves crammed in as closely as they could be without making it hard for one person to move through them. It was so tight that he and Pyrrha had to move through one in front of the other, and only had a few inches to either side to move around. Each of the durable, steel shelves were stacked high with data-drives ranging from crisp and clean looking to broken in half or scored by blaster or saber burns.

“This is probably a treasure trove of information...” He murmured mournfully, looking at a palm-sized drive made of black material and crossed by blue symbols he didn’t recognize. “Technology, history, culture… And most if it probably lost, because our technology isn’t compatible.”

“It’s quite like being trapped in a room with a book that tells you how to leave, written in a language you do not comprehend.” Pyrrha murmured, picking up her own, badly scorched and blackened piece of data-drive. Grimacing, she ran her thumb along its broken edge, “It’s tragic… And not in the sense of drama and poetry.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “We can’t use these, not here, but…”

“The Archive might be able to?” Pyrrha guessed, one brow raised in question. He nodded and she smiled, returning the gesture as she looked over the shelves around them, “It would make sense, that such a place would have what we need to access these drives and devices. But how would we compensate the Archive for its help? The Curator made clear that it wouldn’t offer much in the way of charity, outside helping us after the Trials.”

“Maybe the information on these would be good enough?” He suggested quietly, shuffling further along the she;ves, scanning each for anything more interesting, “The Curator accesses them, and we each get a copy of whatever is in them. A bit of a gamble, but given how little effort he has to go through…”

“It cannot hurt to at least take them and try.” She agreed quietly, running her hands along the shelving units absently as they meandered through the repository, “How do we decide which ones we take, though? I see no labels of even the strange, Ozpin kind.”

“I’ll go through it later.” He answered with a shrug, “Look for Sith or Jedi symbols. Those would be the most enticing ones, after all.”

“To the Archive,” Pyr smirked teasingly, “or to you?””

“Yes.” He laughed, shaking his head at the weak but nonetheless amusing joke. He heard her chuckle, too, and only when the moment had passed did he ask, “Next room?”

She agreed and, closing the door behind them, they slipped out and moved down the hall, to the next sealed repository. Like the first room the second had multiple shelving units, but they only took up half of the room. Crammed into one side in the same sardine-like manner as the first, and stacked high with unlabeled data-drives, pads and the like, all in the same mixed conditions as the ones in the first room.

The other half of the room, though, was far more spacious.

The center part of the right side of the room was empty aside from a low worktable, with a solid base instead of legs that rested on the ground. The base was covered in drawers and the table itself with rags and tools, needles, thread, and even hammers and nails. Across from it, armor and weapon stands lined the wall, covered in foreign armor of a wide variety. Or, well, the scraps of it, held together by matte black cloth like museums used, to keep the pieces in shape.

“Is this… Plastic?” Pyrrha asked quietly, running her hand over the face of an old but stark white helmet.

“Not plastic, no.” He answered, picking the thing up off the stand, “Plastoid. It’s the same in texture, but its blaster-resistant. Good for combat armor, out there.”

“Ah.” She nodded, looking at the helmet as he turned it in his hands and asking the obvious, “Do you know what it came from?”

It had been white, once upon a time, but had greyed significantly since then, bordering in places further to black than anything else. The visor was cracked, outright missing the left eye, but still mostly intact. It ran across the face of the mask and down at the center, over where his nose would have been if he’d worn it, and then down over where his mouth would be in a sort of upside down ‘V’ shape that spread out over part of the pronounced chin of the helmet. It was mostly featureless, though, aside from a simple blue pattern in a language he didn’t understand on the right forehead.

The tally-marks that had been stenciled all across the left side, though, he understood perfectly.

“Seventy,” he counted them out, “and it looks like he only stopped because he ran out of space.”

“And moved elsewhere.” Pyrrha nodded, pointing at the shoulder and the chest-piece, the only other sections on this stand, that were similarly covered in the tally marks. The woman grimaced, running her finger over the armored breast, “If this covered his entire body, he must have had hundreds of marks… Hundreds of kills.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, setting it back on the stand and turning to his left, “This one looks kind of similar…”

The more intact suit next to the first was smoother, but colored the same white, and made of what felt like the same plastoid that the other was. This one’s features were less pronounced, though, with a ‘T’ shaped visor that spindled to a narrow point at the center of his eyebrows, another wide section branching down to a similar inverse ‘V’ over the mouth. A spindly, broken antenna stuck out from one side, melted at the top.

“What is the blue for, do you think?” Pyrrha asked, running her hand along the blue stripes of his arm, and nodding at the shoulders and chest. “A unit insignia? Rank, maybe?”

“I don’t know.” He answered, looking down across the armored stomach towards where the chest-piece ended in a ragged, melted point at where his own hips would have been. Running a finger over the warped surface he frowned, “A lightsaber did this, though…”

“How do you know?”

“I know.” He answered simply, “I cut enough plastoid and metal drones in training to know. And I’ve seen pictures of the damage besides.”

“Can you…” Pyrrha leaned against his side, holding a hand on his back affectionately, “Can you… Feel anything, from it?”

“Yeah, but… I need you to get away from me.” She blinked, hurt, and he rushed to explain, “I-I would be overwhelmed by you, right now. An emotional imprint on a relic, like this, isn’t as powerful and easy to feel as living emotions standing near you. If you… Go to the door, though, I can try and get a read.”

“Ah.” She nodded, the hurt vanishing instantly, “I understand. Do you… Want to, though? I don’t know what this will feel like, for you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, curiosity eating away at him, “I do.”

She nodded and turned to leave, leaning against the side of the door where he’d directed her to. He closed his eyes and opened himself to the Force to check and, while he could sense her, it wasn’t so oppressive as it would have been had she been right on top of him. What he sensed from her - curiosity, affection, worry - weren’t particularly bad things to feel, but they were distracting.

And distractions, he couldn’t afford.

Sighing, he laid his hand on the armor’s chest, leaning forward to press his forehead to its nose and inhaling. It smelled of plastic and dust, and he let himself center on that. On the smell, a smell that whoever had worn it would have been intimately familiar with. For a moment he stared into the dark visor of the helmet, blue eyes darkening to an odd green that he was sure had to be a trick of the light.

Then, he closed his eyes, and let the Force take him.

For a long time, all he heard was his breathing and all he felt was the cool of the air. Soon, though, that began to shift. Lights lit up around him and cracked forward vibrantly, vanishing before he could even discern what they were or where they came from. He felt tremors in his arms as some came from himself, cracking out in bright blue, but he didn't dare avert his eyes from the figure ahead of him. 

It was twice the size of a man, with reverse hinged legs and a lightsaber in its hand, flicking out as the bolts of blue came towards it and deflecting them away. Shadowy figures rushed around the taller one, collapsing as lances of blue struck them or as they neared and the figure himself did.

The figure filled him with emotions that played through him like a tempest. Anger, fear, pain, betrayal. And under it all a strange… Fog, of duty and something else, something strange, that he couldn’t understand.

His emotions controlling him, he rushed the figure and then felt pain flare across his stomach as his vision swam.

The last thing he felt, as he receded from the imprint, was… Relief, deep and heart wrenching.

“Jaune…?” He staggered away from the armor and fet hands on his shoulders and then arms around him, hugging him against Pyrrha’s chest as he collected himself. Meeting his gaze when he turned his head to her, their noses almost touching, she asked, “Are you alright? You looked terri-”

He cut her off by rounding on her and pulling her into a kiss that drew a surprised squeak from her before she sighed and relaxed into it. His hand found her throat, feeling her pulse quicken, and her hand found his wrist, holding him as he held her.

“Sorry.” He murmured after they parted a few seconds later and he pulled away, grimacing, “I, uh… Lost myself for a second.”

“Perhaps you should lose yourself more often, then…” She flushed when he turned to her, brows raised in surprise. Apparently, she’d not meant for him to hear her. Still flushing red she cleared her throat, took a seat at the work table and asked, sheepishly, “Did, uh, did it work, then? You got something from the armor?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, and sat, relaying what he’d seen and felt to her while she took notes on her Scroll. Finally, he finished, “And then when I came to, I was so… Into going with the flow of my emotions, my instincts, so I… Yeah.”

“It’s… I didn’t mind.” She said, flushing again and then shaking her head, “But what you saw was… Well, more than nothing. What do you think was happening?”

“A unit of soldiers was dispatched to hunt someone down, someone hiding.” He answered quietly, “They found him, there was a battle and he,” Jaune waved a hand at the armor, “was killed by whoever their target was.”

“This means…?”

“I don’t know what it means, yet.” He said quietly, looking at the armor. “But I do know that I’m hungry. You?”

“I could do with something particularly greasy and unhealthy.” She smiled, standing and asking brightly, “Would you like to rest here? I’ll fetch us a couple pizzas from the cafeteria and we can see where our evening goes…?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “sounds good.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Gee willickers, I wonder if anyone guesses what that vision was of.

Real talk, we got Goodwitch characterization and the start of finally getting super dirty on digging through the SW stuff. Whoo!

Also yes the current plot line is several days after this, technically, on the RWBY end. I needed this in but it made the other chapter nearly 10K - which, no - in my planning sheets. So, there will be a moderate time-skip in the next Jaune chaptoir.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Dasgun :

^-^

Smokey Panda :

Kali is a legitimate treat to write and I am already revising to try and get her into more things. The Way has plot points specifically meant to facilitate that. XD

Greer :

For proper context-

I view canon Adam as a lot more layered and nuanced than a lot of others. I dislike the common arguments that Adam is a bad character for how he ended. I rather liked it, the tragedy of a man enabled and pushed way too far.

Probs gonna have him appear in this a lot.

Argus :

I also imagine that the meeting would play out the same way, minus the longest catnap in history - I saw you, Kot Bot - and as said earlier, Kali is a treat to write if I’m in the proper headspace.

Literally finding ways to justify including her and Ghira in other stories.

Zenith Tempest :

I mean, Ironwood here is just acting like canon Ironwood. Flaunting the law and norms to get his plan how he wants it, with little to no oversight. I’m glad you enjoy it, but if you do, I encourage you to revisit Irondaddy in V1-3, since that is the stage of his development he is at here.

And I mean this in a genuine ‘I think a second review of things will make you enjoy it more’ way, here.

Fic Eater :

Yes, we are talking about the same person. Just covering events up to this point Blake. 

This story’s Blake is, after all, modeled on the anti-racist freedom fighter that, when her organization went too far, left it to pursue a career fighting giant monsters to protect people instead and then, when, for reasons that aren’t her fault, that organization came back for her, worse than she left it, she stood up to fight it. Which had her stabbed, made her lose her home, and sent her fleeing from a madman that wanted to kill and destroy everything around her.

Also.

In your examples, insurance would cover most of the issues at the Docks - and, I mean, it’s the SDC, fuck ‘em - and on the highway it is directly stated to the screen that team RWBY were punished, and no one on the highway got seriously hurt.

I recommend re-watching these sequences.


	5. A Cat In Need

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Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

They spent days working their way through just the rooms on the left side of the hallway. For the most part it was more of the same, data-drives they couldn’t access and broken weapons and armor they didn’t recognize and certainly couldn’t use. Ozpin’s notes were of little help either, most filled with what few conclusions he could reach simply by looking at the armor, weapons and drives he’d collected.

Unsurprisingly, just looking at a gun of some kind didn’t tell you much beyond that it was, in fact, a gun.

They reorganized things a bit with what little knowledge he already had, sorting Sith artifacts out from Jedi ones and labeling them as such. Weapons, armor, drives, he did his best to identify what he could and marked it out, reorganizing the rooms on the left side of the hallway entirely.

“What about this?” Pyrrha asked quietly, holding up a small, half-melted blaster that, even melted as it was, was still as long and thick as his forearm. “This one looks different, and feels different. Heavier, kind of. Do you think the Curator would be interested…?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged unsurely, turning back to the notes he had been making and checking over the last near-weak. “It’d be one of the few blasters we’re taking right now. I mean, assuming that was a blaster and not, like, an ion cannon or something.”

“I don’t really know the difference, but…”

“Ion cannons, even rifle ones, could disable robots and electronics.” He explained quietly, noting the weapon’s addition to their cargo idly as he went on. “Unless they were hardened against it, I mean. Up against a force that uses a lot of droids, or against vehicles full of electronics, ions were probably pretty useful.”

“But not against people, I imagine.”

“Dunno.” He shrugged simply, “I don’t imagine they would be, though. Or else why not just use those?”

Pyrrha only shrugged and moved off, toting the broken weapon and a small sack full of data-drives. At the open crate, she bent over to lean into the box, emptying the sack and stacking the data-drives carefully. A second passed and Pyrrha flicked a look over her shoulder and he coughed, turning around to get back to the work they’d been doing and pretending he hadn’t been caught.

The way of embarrassment and amusement that hit him told him how well that went over, though.

“Almost a week, and we haven’t found anything useful.” He sighed, closing the little folder and tucking it under his arm. “Half the rooms down, too… Ozpin’s collection is turning out a lot less impressive than I thought it would be.”

“Assuming the Curator doesn’t find anything of note.” Pyrrha added as she rejoined him, smiling thinly. “You never know what he might catch for us, hm? Who knows, it might be quite interesting.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced, “Who, uh, who knows?”

“Jaune, you-” Whatever the woman wanted to say was cut off by her Scroll chiming loudly, the woman sighing and stepping back from his side as she fished it out of a hidden skirt pocket and flicked it open.

“What is it?” He asked, “Another ask for a press event?”

“No, my agent has been fielding and refusing those.” She answered quickly, smiling and adding, “She’s good about that. She has asked me to do a few charity events in a coupe weeks that we need to talk about, though.”

“We do?”

“They want you there, too.” She nodded, “You fought in the Battle of Beacon and saved my, and other’s, lives. And we’re, you know… Courting.”

“Courting?” He chuckled, “Isn’t that usually a precursor to marriage? Someone’s ambitious.”

“Shut up, Jaune.” She laughed brightly, whacking his chest with a hand and shaking her head as she turned back to her Scroll. More seriously, though smiling still, she said, “It’s a mail from Ruby, actually. She… Wants to see us. This says she needs our help, but doesn’t want to put details into a text.”

“Ah.” He nodded, “Then it’s about Ozpin’s little secrets and schemes.”

“Or perhaps it’s about yours.” She pointed out dryly, raising a single brow and cocking her head when he gave her a disbelieving look. “Your secrets are as kept as Ozpin’s are, if not as involved in the matters to hand for the lot of us. Both of them are world altering, for us, and both of them you kept from us for a long while.”

“I guess.” He frowned, though, “But I do not like you comparing me to Ozpin, Pyr.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for upsetting you, Jaune.” She turned on her heel and leaned in, pressing a quick, chaste peck to his lips that had his eyes widening. Smirking as she pulled away, she asked, “Do you forgive me?”

“U-Uh…”

“I forgave you for something already.” She prodded, laughing when he flushed brightly, his ears burning, and shaking her head. “Gods, I see why Yang enjoys teasing people… This is honestly rather fun. To the point, though, I suspect yours are more involved as Ozpin’s aren’t something you can probably help with.”

“Fair point.” He nodded, ignoring the burning in his ears and shaking his head. “And we’ve been down here for days, now…”

“We could use the break.” She nodded, “Even if it is only a break to do a different kind of work, rather than a break from work outright.”

“Yeah, I… I guess.” He nodded, turning a look on the rooms on the right side of the hallway and frowning. They hadn’t even opened any of them, yet… Still, he smiled and asked, “Maybe have her meet us in Vale? We can, uh, get dinner together after we see what she needs, maybe.”

“My, my, Jaune.” Pyrrha smirked, “Asking me out on a date, are we?”

“Yep.” He nodded, popping the ‘P’ playfully and offering her a hand. “If you don’t mind accompanying me, of course, my lady?”

“Oh my, how chivalrous you are when you aren’t stealing kisses.” She chuckled, taking his hand and nodding. More seriously, and emanating a contentedness that made even him smile, she said, “Very well, then. Let’s go see what Ruby needs and then enjoy a night out on the town together.”

Smiling, he nodded and they turned to leave, their work set aside for the moment.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Since they were coming to her to talk secrets, Ruby had been more than happy to find a subtle, private place to talk. Just as they’d disembarked from their Bullhead in central Vale, she’d sent them an address in the upper districts where she said they’d have peace, quiet and privacy. He’d joked that the address was probably an arcade, or a comics store maybe, and then laughed when Pyrrha turned a playful little glare on him.

Instead, after ten minutes of quiet walking down mostly empty side-streets - to avoid anyone heckling Pyrrha, mainly - they found themselves at… A library.

“I mean…” Pyrrha mused, smiling, “It’s quiet, at least.”

“Yeah, I guess.” he snorted, shaking his head and adding, amusedly, “And hey, it’s not a comics store.”

“Force, Jaune…” The woman murmured, shaking her head and batting him on the arm gently again as they slipped under a wide, circular second floor patio, towards the door it sheltered. He gave her a wry look, as the doors opened, and she slid the hand down to take his own, squeezing it comfortably while she chided, “You know that Ruby is far, far more adult than you give credit for.”

“I know.” He’d seen her in the Vault, after all. And no child could withstand everything that had happened since, besides. Quietly, as the heat inside hit them and they brought down the Aura they had used to keep them warm in the chill air, he murmured, “I’m only kidding.”

“Hey.” Pyrrha said, tugging him to a stop and meeting his eyes, “What’s wrong, Jaune?”

“Nothing, Pyr. Nothing.” He sighed, taking a deep breath and pushing the troublesome memories aside. “Just… Bad thoughts. Bad memories. You know?”

“Mhm.” She nodded knowingly, “I know, Jaune. Believe you me, I know.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair and grumbling angrily, “I need to meditate… Attuning to the imprints, and being down there, it has me out of tune. Off balance. I should be better than this...”

“Jaune-”

“U-Um, excuse me.” A small voice said from behind them, the two turning as the automatic doors closed and looking down at a girl at most ten. She was holding a folder and staring at the floor, and asked, voice weak and quiet, “A-Are you Pyrrha Nikos?”

“I am.” And in spite of the fact that they were loitering in the entry atrium, and he knew she hated being recognized by fans, she smiled and knelt, her metal knee clanging on the floor gently. “And who are you?”

“A-Alex.” She answered meekly, blinking startlingly bright, green eyes up at the two of them. “Alex Chartreuse, M-Miss Nikos.”

“Well, Miss Chartreuse, it is good to meet you.” Pyrrha smiled, offering a hand that, hesitantly, the young girl took. Squeezing it gently, Pyrrha nodded to the folder and asked, voice a perfect mask of diplomatic coolness and feigned happiness, “Let me guess… You want an autograph?”

“Y-Yes please, Miss Nikos!” The girl smiled eagerly, holding the notebook up for the Huntress to take. Taking it, Pyrrha flipped it open to an empty page and signed her name in excellent, practiced hand-writing, writing out a message for the girl. Before she could write ‘Alex’, though, she stammered, “N-Not for me.”

“No?”

“For my sister, Alice.” She nodded, “She, um… Lost her- I-in the… She has a hand like your legs, and I was hoping-”

“Of course, Alex.” And this time, Jaune felt a more genuine pang of happiness from Pyrrha. She finished her letter to the first girl and then, below, with enough space to separate them if they wanted, she wrote a second, complete with a second signature. Holding it out, she smiled, “One for each of you brave little ones, hm?”

“T-Thank you.” She beamed, taking the notebook and then, as Pyrrha rose and Jaune turned, stammering, “T-That would make you Jaune Arc, right?”

“Hm?” He hummed, turning and cocking his head at the girl.

“She’s Pyrrha Nikos.” Alex explained quietly, anxiety rolling off of her in titanic tides. She’d been nervous with Pyrrha, too, but this was as a gentle tide compared to a tsunami. Still, she managed, “T-That means you’re Jaune Arc. I, um, recognize your chin-braid and your staff, o-on your back.”

“I am, yeah.” he nodded, asking, “Why do you ask?”

“Can I, um…” She held out the little notebook, “Please? J-Just for me, though. I-I know I’m being greedy, asking you b-both, but I only meant to get Alice Miss Nikos’ and… It’s my birthday, tomorrow, s-so…”

“Sure.” He sighed, kneeling and taking the folder and pen she offered, using his knee as a pseudo-table to write on. Quietly, he warned her, “I don’t have as good of writing as Pyr, though…”

“T-That’s fine!” She smiled, bouncing on tiny heels and positively radiating a kind of energy and bright happiness that he found impossible to resist. “Thank you so much! Miss Nikos is awesome, too, but you’re my favorite from the Battle of Beacon! How you took on that terrorist all on your own- So awesome!”

“Sure.” He smiled, pushing away the darker feelings her words brought up and reading as he wrote, “To little Miss Alex. Stay strong, keep moving forward, and make the world just a bit brighter if you can.”

“I-I will!” She beamed, bouncing excitedly as he handed the notebook back. Turning and rushing off, out the door to a pair of people he presumed were her parents, she called back, “Thank you!”

“I despise being recognized.” Pyrrha murmured as the doors closed and she stepped close enough to him to take his hand again, and avoid being heard. Smiling, though, she added, “Sometimes, though… Sometimes it’s not so bad.”

“Yeah….” He grinned, cocking his head and turning to her, “I was her favorite, though.”

“Oh, hush.” She laughed, turning, “And come. We have to meet Ruby.

Entry into the library was made through two doors, layered almost like an airlock and lined by vents to cool and warm people coming in. Past the second set of doors, the library opened up in a wide atrium with another set of doors directly across from the ones they’d used to come in. To either side were long service desks, with doors into the children’s wing that dominated the right of the bottom floor and, ironically, the adult section that dominated the opposite. 

Though, it, at least, seemed to be watched by the people working at the service desk, to prevent any confusion.

“Excuse me, Miss?” Pyrrha started as she moved to the service desk, the middle-aged, weary looking man behind it blinking on seeing her. He could see the recognition in the man's old eyes, and knew Pyrrha could, too, but she ignored it. “We were supposed to meet a friend here for a talk. A-”

“Miss Rose, yes?” The man’s accent was heavy and Vacuoan, “She said to expect you. Up the stairs and through the fiction side, on your right. There’s a handful of private rooms on the far side, she’s in number four.”

“I see.” Pyrrha nodded, smiling politely, “Thank you.”

It turned out they didn’t much need the room number, since only one was occupied.. They could see Ruby’s back through the little window in the wall that let people see in, the young Huntress leaning side to side and bouncing in her seat as she played her game. Weiss was across from her, leaning an elbow on the table and resting her chin on her hand, watching the other woman with a small, warm smile.

Until, that is, she saw them approaching and flushed brightly, straightening and saying something to her partner.

“Gods, she is such a useless lesbian…” Pyrrha murmured, earning a surprised snort from him that had Pyrrha laughing. “What? Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Can’t, since I… Can’t really say I don’t agree.” He smiled as they neared the door and the Schnee rose, slipping around the table and coming to meet them while Ruby turned in her seat to smile and wave.

Both were wearing new seemingly combat-rated clothes, if the weapons in the corner were anything to go by. Ruby’s sported more grey than normal, with long, thick sleeves that could keep her warm without needing to exercise her Aura. Weiss had opted for a skirt that was not dissimilar to her normal one, lined in black and with more fitted and thickly insulated sleeves.

“Jaune. Pyrrha. It’s good to see you both.” Shockingly, as they slipped in, the Schnee stepped in, tugging them both into warm hugs while Ruby smiled and bounced in her seat. Stepping back, she coughed to clear her throat and moved back to her seat, “I, um, have been told that people like warm hugs, when it is cold, so-”

“They do.” Pyrrha cut the anxious woman off, drawing the chair at the head of the table for him and then moving to the opposite to sit in her own chair, smoothing out her own combat skirt and leaning on the table. Looking to Ruby, she mused, “You seem to be finally having an affect on her, Ruby.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, she’s been pretty difficult.” Ruby sighed, as if she’d been suffering for a long, long time, and closed her Scroll. Winking at the Schnee, she added, “But I think she’s been warming up lately.”

“I- We did not come here to make puns at my expense!” Weiss hissed, mindful enough of where they were, at least, not to shout. He could still read the same emotions on her face, though, and smiled for it as she grumbled. “Why does everyone pick on me, anyway? I didn’t do anything to any of you.”

“Your reactions are a lot of fun.” Jaune answered, “You react so earnestly, and visibly, to everyone’s teasing that they can’t help but tease you. If you just kept from reacting so well then people would probably leave you alone.”

“Wait, really?”

“One, no, teasing you is just to much fun, now.” Ruby said brightly, sitting straight and grinning widely, holding up a finger as she counted. “Two, Jaaaaaune! Stop telling Weiss all of the classified anti-Weiss combat doctrines!”

“Why do you have anti-me combat doctrines?” Weiss hissed, eyes narrow and cheeks red. After Ruby only answered with giggles, the Schnee rolled her eyes and sighed exhaustedly, “Maybe you should tell them why you wanted to talk to them, Ruby? I imagine teasing me isn’t something you needed them for.”

“I mean, doing things in a group is always more fun…”

“Ruby.” Weiss said, staring her down harder than before, earning a little ‘eep’ from the young leader. Again, Weiss sighed, saying quietly, “Focus, please. Why we’re here is important, and I know you’re just avoiding getting to the topic at hand.”

“Am not…”

“Ruby.” Weiss tried again, raising one eyebrow menacingly, “I will tell Yang to withhold your strawberries.”

“Fiend!” Ruby didn’t laugh, though, instead drumming the small fingers of both hands on the table anxiously. After a minute, Weiss leaned forward, reaching over the table to catch one of Ruby’s hands in her own and smiling reassuringly. That, at least, seemed to tug the girl out of her thoughts and she sighed, turning to he and his partner, “Blake… Still hasn’t woken up.”

“I know.” If only because Ruby would have come running to tell him if she’d woken up. Frowning, he said, “I’m going to assume that you have an idea related to that.”

“Yeah, um…”

“Ruby wants to know if your… Powers could be used to help her.” Weiss filled in when her partner looked to her nervously. Still holding the girl’s hand with one of her own, Weiss leaned her chin on the other, her elbow on the table, and went on. “We were hoping that maybe the Force could hold some kind of answer.”

“There isn’t.” He answered, feeling the disappointment that washed over him from both of the women. “At least,” he rushed to add, “nothing that I can do, as I am.”

“How do you mean?” Pyrrha asked.

“There are a lot of skills related to healing, mending, and the like.” He answered, leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers, resting his chin atop them gently. “Unfortunately, I am not trained in any of them. Hell. I don’t even know which one would be the most useful. Would Force Healing even matter here, for instance?”

“I dunno…”

“I was being rhetorical, Ruby.” he answered, smiling when she flushed embarrassedly, “The point is that while yes, the Force probably holds skills I could use to help her, I don’t know them.”

“The Curator might…”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “But I don’t know that we can pay him enough for it if he does, Pyr. What we’ve gotten out of the Vault so far probably isn’t enough for ancient Scrolls, or even lessons, on Force techniques.”

“But it might.” Pyrrha pointed out firmly, adding, “And it cannot hurt to ask. Who knows? Perhaps he would simply take a few in trade for helping us. We wouldn't get what’s on them ourselves-”

“Which could be very bad.” He pointed out quietly, sitting up and arguing quietly, before his partner could make the first move, “Who knows what’s on those data-drives? For all we know it could be coordinates and access codes to a warship, or a weapons foundry, or something else ludicrous like that.”

“True enough.” The Mistralian admitted, folding her prosthetic legs comfortably and resting her hands on a knee. She grimaced when she did but, after a second, the frown eased. “Even so, aiding our comrades must come first. Honor demands it be so.”

“Right.” He frowned, “Honor and duty. Because that has done us so well, right?”

“Honor is its own reward.” She said simply, waving a hand as if to dismiss any ideas to the contrary. “I would pay any price to maintain mine, and have already done so, to an extent.”

“Right.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She was so damn stubborn, sometimes, and he still wasn’t sure if he hated it or loved it… Finally, he forced himself to set the matter aside and said, quietly, “It still doesn’t affect that I don’t know what to trade for, though. Even if we trade the drives away-”

“Which we will.”

“-it won’t do us much good, without knowing what to trade for.” He finished, shooting the woman an unamused look. She didn’t respond, though, only smiling pleasantly as always. She was going to be the death of him, one of these days. “For now, I need to see her.”

“Can I ask why?” Ruby asked, “I, um, will have to talk to Ironwood, or Weiss’ sister, Winter, to get them to let you in. Security stuff, you know?”

“And having a reason will make that oh so much easier.” Weiss added, “Not to mention, the General might provide his own, er, financial support on the matter if he knows what we’re doing.”

“I’ve spent the last week drawing emotional imprints out of objects in the Vault. Things Ozpin had been collecting and storing for who knows how long.” He explained quietly, shrugging, “I’ve been fairly successful at that, so… The hope is that I can use the same power to draw Blake’s feelings to the fore, and read them. If I can, I might find an obvious problem there.”

“You want to experience Blake’s emotions firsthand?” Weiss murmured, shaking her head slightly at the prospect, “I do not envy that…”

“Weiss, stop being racist.” The Schnee spluttered even for the obviousness of the joke in her tone, and Ruby pushed on, ignoring her indignant murmuring and crossed arms. “You think that will really help, Jaune?”

“I don’t know.” He said simply, shrugging, “I’d be a liar if I said that I hadn’t considered this idea a few times. I was just… Well, a bit hesitant to go poking around in Blake’s head.”

“Reasonable.” Weiss murmured, glowering slightly at Ruby for her earlier teasing. In spite of it, though, the Schhnee spoke, “Poking around in anyone’s head in such a manner is probably not exactly an ideal pursuit in and of itself. Add in the Maiden nonsense, what was done to her, and her present state…”

“Yikes.”

“Yes, Ruby.” Weiss sighed, “Yikes.”

“It’ll be risky, to be sure.” Jaune said quietly, toying with his braid gently as he thought, “But… There’s no real way around it. And if she’s not woken up on her own by now, I guess we’re worried enough to at least try. Weiss, Ruby, mind running to Ironwood for us tonight? Let us know when we can get this done?”

“Sure.” Ruby nodded, “You want to come with, ooooor?”

“Can’t.” Jaune smiled, giving Pyrrha a look and watching her cheeks tint pink. “Pyr and I have a date, tonight. And if I’m going to risk stepping into your teammate’s head, I’m going to be a bit greedy tonight and have date night.”

“Fair.” Ruby nodded, standing as Weiss did and adding a parting, “See ya when I see ya, I guess. And, uh, have fun at the, uh… The date place.”

Nodding, Jaune stood and left, Pyrrha trailing just behind him while Ruby and Weiss gathered up their weapons and straightened the chairs. Grabbing the Mistralian’s hand as they descended the steps, he shot her a smile. She only rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath as they made their way back out and then south, headed into the nicer part of the commercial districts.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Blaze 1992 :

I don’t think Ozpin shared notes with the Temple Makers from Indiana Jones. XD

Real talk, the Vault is protected by an Academy full of hundreds of students, teachers and security. There’s little need for such traps, and Glynda would have warned of any of them.

Kamen Rider Ebon :

Yes! Good catch!

Steel Rain 66 :

Happy surprise then! XD

And yeah, I’m being vague, for now, but soon that won’t be the case anymore… *mysterious cackling*

Incognito 2019 :

Answering that would be spoilers, sorry!

Stallionwolf :

*angery plantoid noises*

Argus :

Someone earlier on guessed it, but it was an Order 66 reference.

And yes, for all the special aspects of Jaune’s being in this, he is still a teenager. He can be petty, just like anyone else.


	6. A Ride Downtown

XxX----XxX----XxX

Official Supporters: 

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Short AN, since most are probs aware-

Got kicked out and stabbed in the back by the Walkers, who I lived and worked with. It came without warning of any sort, and the reasons were me forgetting where the pasta strainer went and… No, that’s it.

Staying with my mother for now. New Supporter page, I have a job, I am alive.

Chapters will slow as I complete Requests and work. I am sorry.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Oscar Pine had a routine, every morning. He’d wake up.set the coffee running for his parents, then slip outside to open the barn and check the fences while they woke up and his mother cooked proper breakfast. That always took about half an hour, and more if anything needed mending, and then he’d slip back in for breakfast and, depending on the day’s jobs, a nice, hot shower and maybe even a book. After that, at about eight, his Pa would call for him and the day’s work would start and run on until the sun started to orange the sky.

It was rough, but it was honest.

And Oscar liked his routine, the peace and quiet and watching the fields grow under his efforts. It was rewarding, simple, honest work. And his farm’s food was a good chunk of what fed a small village a mile out, all on it’s own. Without this farm, without him, would everyone there even have enough to fill their bellies?

“Yes, they will.” His tag-along said quietly, voice echoing inside his skull as it always did. “And I have good Lien I’ll spend to ensure it, too, if that’s what is slowing you down.”

“Money isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“You know what.” Oscar sighed, stabbing his shovel down to punch a little, fist-sized hole into the earth. “The beans are going in. I leave, and Pa and Ma won’t have enough hands to till and plant everything. I can’t do that to ‘em.”

“Then I’ll hire hands to come and help.” The voice inside his head, ‘Ozpin’ as it had said, promised. “Enough that your mother and father shall need do little but put out a schedule, and all will be done.”

“That’s charity-”

“There is nothing wrong with charity.” Ozpin chided gently, sighing when Oscar shook his head and punched another seed-hole out. Quietly, he argued, “And besides, this isn’t charity. Think of it more like… Pay for transporting me to where I need to be.”

“I don’t think transporters get that kind of pay.” Oscar sighed, “Or use their actual bodies for it.”

“Well, in Mantle, some take Dust and put it in little baggies and-”

“Is this going to actually matter to this conversation?”

“Tangentially?” Ozpin tried weakly, the lack of surety more than clear in his voice. He could almost see the weak, unsure smile on the man’s face, even though he’d never seen it. Which was just great, really. “It establishes that some transporters use their bodies as modes of transit. Which does counter your contention that transporters don’t use their actual bodies to transport goods.”

“Okay, maybe a bit.” He sighed, flicking a gaze over to his father, more than a dozen yards away and with his broad back turned. “Now, how many of them transported strange, disembodied voices claiming to be a professor from some Academy-”

“Beacon is not just ‘some academy, Oscar.” Ozpin cut in hotly, like he’d kicked his favorite dog. Not just his dog, but his favorite dog. “And I have said enough times, I am Ozpin. The Headmaster of Beacon Academy. And you, Oscar, have already spent enough time walking down memory lane to realize what I have said is true.”

“If I’m insane, I’d be dreaming all that up…”

“Insanity wouldn’t activate your Aura.” Ozpin countered, “I would have, though, Oscar.”

Oscar couldn’t muster up much of an argument against that point. When he’d first been told it, he’d not believed it. He’d thought that Ozpin was some freak of his mind, making up a convenient lie he could delude himself into believing. All a part of the insanity he’d developed overnight, somehow. But then he’d looked it up… Ozpin’s face matched, along with other things he remembered seeing but had never seen.

And that mental breaks, pressure and pain, could pull Aura from a person…

But not mental instability.

“You’re a good young man, Oscar.” Ozpin said, tugging him gently from his musing and planthing. He hummed and Ozpin said, quietly, “Every single moment we tarry, people are at risk. People die, Oscar. You can help them.”

“I can help my Ma and pa, too.” Oscar growled, pulverising a mound of dirt for another plant. “And it’s… Not like you can make me do what you want.”

“I could force myself on you, force myself into control, and go… But I won’t.” Ozpin said quietly, “I believe you will make the right decision, but I will not force it upon you. You must choose. This quiet, peaceful life can be yours, ours, if you decide so. But you know what it will cost.”

“Yeah.” Oscar sighed, turning a long, forlorn look on the field while he caught his breath. “Yeah, I do.”

“So…?”

“We’ll leave in the morning.” He promised quietly, returning to his work, “After… After I make my parents their coffee for one last time. I’ll grab some preserves, and some water, and load up Pa’s old Atlas pack. I’ll need directions from you, but we can get goin’ and get whatever this is over with.”

Perhaps wisely, Ozpin stayed silent after that, leaving him to enjoy his doomed routine.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Great Vale was one of the most popular, and populated, hospitals in the entire Kingdom-City of Vale. Hundreds of staff saw to hundreds of patients, and catered to the families that came to visit them of course. And with that came a tempest of emotions, from anger, pain and fear to relief, hope and love from a particular wing of the building, that made visiting much like Beacon. Albeit on a much larger scale, because of the sheer amount of people getting the sheer amount of bad news a hospital tended to mete out.

But, just like at Beacon, he could mostly block out the tempestuous waves of emotion roiling around them. But, given why they were headed to the hospital…

“I don’t think I can do this, Pyr.” He murmured, just loud enough for the woman to hear without the driver catching his words. There was a privacy divider up, of course, but he didn’t trust that farther than he could throw the car. 

“Why?” She asked, hand instinctively seeking, and finding, his. She squeezed it worriedly and leaned closer, her shoulder pressed against his, to ask, “Are you anxious about it? Worried you can’t? Or for Blake-”

“No.” He cut her off and then paused. Then, he grimaced, “Okay, yes, on all counts. But what I mean is that there’s… Too much noise.”

“Too much…” He could see the confusion on her face ebb away as an ambulance rolled past them and then she grimaced, too. “Ah. I see. The Force is… Unquiet, here?” 

“Everywhere there’s a lot of people, yeah.” He nodded, “And, well… There are a lot of upset and hurt people in a hospital, Pyr.”

“That’s true. Hmm…” After a long few seconds she leaned forward, tapping the glass partition and waiting until the car pulled over. Popping the door open she explained to the driver and Jaune both, “I need to make a call to Weiss and the General.”

“As in, Ironwood..?”

“The one and only, yeah.” Jaune sighed as she stepped out, her Scroll in her hand and light glinting off her legs. When the driver blinked he sighed and explained, “We’re… Doing a job for him. Classified stuff. He said not to make any calls about it inside a car, in case someone planted something.”

“What, because I’m a Faunus?”

“Wait, you are?” He blinked, shaking his head and waving the man off before he could say anything, “No, wait, no. Not because of that, we just grabbed a cab. General Ironwood was worried about other people planting bugs.”

And, well, he had been, too. The debacle with Ozpin’s finding out about him had proven to him he needed practice at the whole ‘intrigue’ side of things. He had a bad habit of not sensing people, or intent, around him and just assuming he was safe… Whatever the case, though, the cabbie seemed satisfied enough with that not to say anything else and shrugged unsurely.

“Sorry, man.” He said, anxiety and shame rolling off him like mists down a mountain’s foothills. Thick and obscuring everything else. “Shit’s been bad for lotta folks since the Battle.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “I know.”

A few silent, admittedly at least semi-awkward, minutes passed before Pyrrha tugged open the car door and slipped back into her seat. Jaune gave her a curious, somewhat worried, look and she frowned deeply. Which was a wonderful way to start whatever conversation they were about to have. At a look and a wave of her hand, the cabbie rolled the window up and they were back on their way while the woman sighed tiredly.

“General Ironwood says that Blake doesn’t have anywhere else to go.” Pyrrha said finally, as they got back on their way. “The hospital has been secured, and even has well-built and defensible rooms for them to use. And aside from sticking her on his flagship there’s nowhere else that he has vetted.”

“Then why not move her there?”

“Legality and appearances.” She sighed, bitterly, and very nearly snarled, “Politics.”

“Explain?”

“Faunus just facilitated a wide-scale attack on Atlesian forces and Vale as a whole. The Council of Atlas, and lesser politicians besides, would raise hell over using an Atlesian warship to protect an ex-Fang like her, even with her reported heroics.” The woman explained in a matter of fact tone that told him the words weren’t quite hers. “And given a… Certain person is being detained aboard that ship, moving her there poses security risks as well.”

“Two birds in one nest.” Jaune sighed, nodding, “One well-placed shot and…”

“Yeah.” She nodded, “So the Vanguard isn’t going to work. He said it would take at least a week to find something better, likely out of the Kingdom entirely. For now, he’s asked us to at least try and pull it off at Great Vale.”

“Well…” It couldn’t be helped, he supposed, even if he was not looking forward to opening up his mind to all the noise of the hospital. Smiling, though, he asked, “Did General Ironwood at least say please, Pyr?” 

The Mistralian only chuckled, batting his arm playfully as she rolled her eyes.

When they reached the hospital, a squad of Atlesian soldiers were waiting at the door for them. Each of them wore heavy, blocky, off-black armor that covered every inch of their bodies, with purple outlines that played along the edge of each large plate. Heavy helmets enclosed their heads as well, formed by visors wide enough that, had they not been blacked out, he’d have been able to see them from their hairline around to their ears and down to their chin.

Not a single one of them spoke as they approached and their driver pulled away. They simply gestured for him to head in and then fell in behind them, escorting them into the hospital. If they hadn’t been different sizes and genders, with one of their heavy helmets even sporting metal slots for Faunus ears, fronted by odd looking insulation, he might have guessed they were machines.

Given the absolute calm radiating from them, even that almost wasn’t enough.

“They’re delightful…” He murmured as one, the one with the Faunus ears on his helmet, lead them through the hospital.

“Black Guard.” His partner answered, holding his hand tightly enough it almost hurt even through his Aura. Watching them, and with stiff shoulders and anxiety rolling off of her in waves, she explained, “Atlas’ black knights for over a century. Even the best Hunters in Mistral fear ever having to meet them.”

“Why?”

“Rumors and tales.” She answered quietly, “From all the way back to the Great War and, if you believe some of them, before it as well.”

“A-Ah, well... ” Not a single one of the soldiers seemed all that motivated to say anything in their defense, either. Which made Pyrrha, and by extension him, feel so much better about the whole thing… Still, though. “If they’re that fearsome, and they’re here, that probably means they’re part of the protective detail assigned to the hospital.”

“It… Does.”

“So, at least we know Blake is safe.” He said, flailing desperately for a way to make his partner feel even remotely better about them being here.

“Yes, I suppose so…” Pyrrha murmured, fingers curling and uncurling reflexively at her side anxiously. He could almost feel her itch to take Milo and Akuou from her back, even if she had no intent to use them. As they rounded the last corner before they reached the secure ward she murmured, just loudly enough to be heard, “Still, they make me… Anxious.”

“I’m incredibly sorry to hear that, Nikos.” The familiar, deep voice of the General said as he came to a stop at the corner and smiled warmly. Or, well, as warmly as he could, as tired as he looked. “I wanted the best to protect your friends. That is all. I assure you I didn’t mean any offense.”

“None was seriously taken, General Ironwood, Sir.” She said quickly, bowing her head in as friendly a way as she could manage. “Merely… Old, deeply instilled superstitions and biases. Nothing to fret over.”

“Still, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable when I can help it.” The great man said simply, turning a look over his shoulder, “Clover, take the Black Guard and see to Specialist Bree’s report as quickly as you’re able. I want you back on the door with Amin as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Sir.” The smiling, well-built Atlesian beside him grunted, turning and marching off with the silent sentinels on his heels.

“Trouble, General?” He asked as the man turned to lead them towards the guarded doors. The General hesitated, half-facing away from them, and Jaune explained, “You just sent a whole unit to check out a report. So, trouble?”

“Ah.” The man grunted, folding his hands behind his back and shaking his head as he turned to lead them in. “No, no trouble. Just a minor glitch in the programming suite for a unit of our droids. I wanted Clover, Specialist Ebi,” he corrected absent-mindedly, “to check it. His Semblance makes tasks like that… Productive, if anything untoward is happening.”

“You fear something untoward?”

“After the Battle of Beacon, and everything surrounding that debacle?” He asked, looking over a shoulder while the doors were opened for them. Frowning, he grunted and turned back to face the way they were headed, “Always.”

“Fair enough.” Jaune muttered, giving Pyrrha a sidelong glance and squeezing her hand reassuringly as they followed him. Turning away from that, and to the matter at hand, he asked, “Did you get everything I asked for, General?”

“I did.” He nodded, “Though I don’t understand the purpose of an ounce of it, after what I saw, I trust you to know how best to apply your…” He turned a wry look on him over his shoulder, “Semblance.”

“I do.” Jaune nodded as they reached the door to Blake’s room. Quietly, he asked, “What time did you tell her team to be here?”

“An hour from now.” The General answered quietly, “A couple of my Ace-Ops are escorting them, but I told them they were free to see the city. And gave them Lien to get some proper food in their stomachs, too. Miss Xiao Long and Miss Rose were more than eager, and believed they had plenty of time to be back in time.”

“They’d make too much noise if they were here, General.” He said quietly as the waves of irritation hit him, rolling off of the man with every mention of the deception. He shot him a confused look and Jaune turned a look on the Human guard on the door. At a gesture from the General, the man moved away and Jaune explained in brief, “Emotions echo out, into the Force. Having them nearby, knowing I’m doing this, would have a deluge of noise filtering in while I, er, try to connect with Blake.”

“Like static on a radio.” The man surmised, earning a nod from the young Force warrior. Sighing, Ironwood nodded and thought for a long moment. Then he raised his voice and ordered, “All non-synthetic units, head to the entryway and hold it until further notice.”

“Yes, Sir.” Echoed around them almost instantly as the soldiers turned and left, leaving behind their autonomous counterparts. 

“I’ll be waiting. Hopefully for good news.” Ironwood said, paying him a nod as he turned to leave.

“Well, that was certainly very kind of him. If a bit… Surprising.” Pyrrha murmured quietly as the sounds of footsteps began to fade out, leaving them in a basically silent hallway, aside from their own breathing and the fluorescents overhead. Paying him a look, her smile small and one brow raised, she asked, “That will help, no?”

“It will.” He nodded, turning an apologetic look on the woman and adding, hesitantly, “If you, uh, don’t mind…”

“Jaune, you know I don’t. Whatever aids you, I am willing to do, if I am able.” She smiled warmly, shooting a look first at one of the machines and then one of the overhead, protected cameras. Shrugging after a second, she grabbed the front of his robes and tugged him in, pressing a gentle but needy kiss to his lips that he was happy to return. No sooner did his hands find her hips, though, did she push him back and smile, “For luck.”

“Yeah.” He smiled back, “For luck.”

“I, uh…” She frowned and grimaced, leaning against him and exuding anxiety. Pressing another kiss to his lips she pushed off him and turned to leave, smiling warmly, “I shall see you once all is done here, then. Dinner, perhaps?”

“Maybe, yeah.” He smiled, waiting until she took a few steps away before calling out almost flippantly, “And love you too, Pyr.”

She flushed the brightest red he could possibly imagine and beat a swift retreat, trailing a mix of anxiety, pleasure and exhilaration in her wake that left him giddy and happy. Shaking his head, he set the kiss aside and laid a hand on the handle of the door. Tugging it open he slipped in and took a deep, deep breath through his nose.

The smell of a gentle, familiar off-lavender incense slammed into him in full force, and the anxiety melted away.

“Well,” he said as he rolled his shoulders and looked across the dark room to Blake’s sleeping form, “let’s see how this goes.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

As stated earlier, expect shorter chapters until I figure stuff out. Apologies all around. All that was snipped off this was a description and the start of Jaune’s force stuff, and some RWBY stuff, all of which will probably be fitted into the next couple chapters in various forms.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Sgtitanwolf :

If you look up ‘KOTOR sentinel droid’ it’s basically those.

CT7567Rules :

Answers in order-

The time it’s set in is ambivalent, with sprinkles leading people to theories. Jaune, as described elsewhere, has a dual-sided Saber ala Maul. Jaune is a Revanite, and so learns a bit of both, though avoiding dipping too far into either. Anyone that may or may not show up would be spoilers.

Gun Blade 2020 :

Yeah, I’m aiming to keep the characters as ‘real’ as I can manage, magical space powers and stuff not withstanding.

Smokey Panda :

Yeah! I wanted to give ‘em a smattering of good moments, after what I have already put ‘em through.

Dasgun :

^-^

Ghostcraft :

It was a mixed bag, but mostly the easy stuff. More Dark Side beginner stuff is easier to teach, and Revan started as a Sith, though, so he started with mostly that. I left the details obtuse for freedom.

Blaze :

Second chance giving isn’t weak. Third chances, now… Those are weak.

Steelrain :

Oh I certainly will have the Arc family around! It’s just hard fitting them as things are, and I don’t want to force ‘em.

Argus :

Many good questions!


	7. Fractures

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Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Cinder was simultaneously freezing and on fire, hanging naked from the wall of her cell while her Aura worked to heal the myriad cuts, bruises and shallow burns that stretched across her once-fair front. It was so cold down in the dungeon that she couldn’t resist the violent shivers that wracked her worn body, her Aura too busy healing her to heat her too. Every time she lost the fight to keep one back she had to grit her teeth to keep her screams contained to dull, muted moans and groans.

It was almost futile, sometimes, but she did it anyway.

Failing to would only invite more punishment, if her jailer heard her, after all…

Down in the dungeon, time didn’t mean much but after the first week she’d learned to read it off of what came when. Seers bearing gruelish meals for her meant it was early morning, late evening, and noon, since that was when Salem set their dinners together if any of the court were at the castle. In between was either peace and frigid quiet, or the sounds of boots on stone, coming to educate her for her failures. Or, if she was particularly unlucky, the first thing she’d hear would be the door opening.

That meant Tyrian was busy and, creative as he was, he wasn’t quite as depraved as the Seers could be. Thanks to the Queen’s countless years to learn, no doubt…

“The morning lesson n-never came…” She murmured, fighting to keep her words straight through pain racking shivering if only for her own sense of dignity’s sake. “And it’s been a while since l-lunch was delivered…”

As if on cue, she heard and felt the gentle rumble of the heavy dungeon gate sliding up, into the ceiling. It was far too early for dinner, so she knew why it had opened… And then, in the silence that followed, she heard an altogether new sound in her tenure down here. Something that set a chill rolling down her spine and into her gut, nestling like a coiled snake weighing her down.

Heels.

They clacked and clicked elegantly, and familiarly, on too-cold stone as they approached her cell and Cinder forced herself to suck in a breath and count the steps. She always did, when the dungeon’s gate opened. And now, the counting made her heart race all the more even as she tried to bring herself under control and flared her Aura to mend whatever it could as quickly as it could.

“M-Mistress.” She shivered, feeling the bile rise for fear when she did but forcing herself to push on regardless, before the show of weakness could linger. “Good… Evening, I think? I-It’s hard to tell, sometimes.”

“Purposefully so.” Salem demured as she stepped through the door and into the cell where she could actually see the Grimm queen. The woman smiled, hands folded in front of her, and turned a long, slow look from Cinder’s bare feet all the way up to her face. Then she smirked and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful.” She grunted as a shiver wracked her, sending lances of pain up and down her body. Ignoring it, she smiled, “Tell T-Tyrian I give him two stars of five.”

“Only two?”

“The meals are t-terrible.” She coughed, “And n-noone comes when I call.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” Salem laughed, the sound actually genuine sounding for once, and stepped forward. Her hand on Cinder’s breast was like ice but then she felt something flare through her and the pain of her injuries began to ebb away. As Salem turned away her clasps came undone and the energy rushing through her was the only thing that kept her from falling flat on her face. “Or you can tell him yourself, if you like, at dinner tonight.”

“D-Dinner?” She shivered, her Aura fading, now, as whatever energy Salem had given her began to wane. Now, the promise of actual food kicked in and kept her on her feet. “You’re… Going to let me out?”

“I felt it had been long enough, and that you had learned your lesson when it comes to failing me so thoroughly.” Salem nodded, inspecting her nails boredly and then sighing and turning a cool, narrow-eyed look on her. “Unless you think I shouldn’t…”

“N-No!” And damn it, she hadn’t meant to sound so scared. But now she had… Slipping to a knee and bowing her head she said, “Please, my Queen. I’ve learned my lesson, I won’t fail you like that again. I-I appreciate the chance to learn.”

“No you don’t, and I would enjoy you not lying to my face.” She stiffened at Salem’s sharp rebuke but, after a moment, the eldritch woman sighed. Stepping by she spoke over her shoulder, “But I can see you’ve learned enough. You’ll find clothes in your room.”

“B-But that’s up three stories…”

“Indeed it is.” Salem smiled, turning a look on her at the door and raising a thin eyebrow challengingly. “And for the record? My Seers will be told to continue your education until you are dressed and at the dinner table. Let’s call it… Your exam. I do hope you’re strong enough, dear Cinder.”

“I am.” She vowed, “I’ll be at dinner, Mistress.”

“Good.” The woman said as she vanished around the corner, “The Doctor has need of your help, now, with a little something in the mountains.”

Taking a deep breath, Cinder turned to follow her mistress out, flicking her hands out to each side to summon her bow and a fistful of arrows. Soon, she promised herself, she’d be free again. And she would have her revenge on the yellow-eyed bastard...

XxX----XxX----XxX

Crossing the hospital room Jaune looked down on the catatonic Faunus, whose hair had been tied into neat buns just behind each of her ears at some point. For the most part, she looked peaceful, though her hands had been folded on her stomach like a corpse in repose and that gave him a bad feeling. Occasionally, though, she’d twitch so very slightly he barely saw it. Mainly it was her ears doing it, shifting less than a centimeter before stilling, in time with the gentle ‘active’ beep of her heart monitor.

And yet, her brain activity was unchanged, according to the scans…

“What is happening to you, Blake?” He murmured, laying a hand on her head and closing his eyes, trying to sense… Something.

All he felt, though, was the chaotic tempest swirling around him. And somewhere in it was a single droplet named Blake Belladonna… 

How on Remnant was he even meant to do this?

“No idea.” He sighed, murmuring the answer to his own question and paying Blake a long, sad look. Chuckling at himself he asked, knowing the answer he’d get, “Feel free to toss up any ideas you have, Blake. Force knows I could use them right now...”

The only answer she had to offer was the gentle beep of the machine, and the quiet whoosh of the overhead air system kicking on.

Turning on a heel he folded his legs under him and rested his fists on his knees, back leaning against the hospital bed. This was as close as he could get without climbing into bed with her, and he couldn’t help but think it would help him find her if only by proximity. A lake was countless drops accumulated into a single body, after all, but if you started next to the one you were looking for then maybe you could find it if you looked.

Or, well, so he hoped, as his eyes slipped closed.

The incense, even if he immediately noticed it wasn’t quite right, and the dark helped him center and calm himself quickly. Old patterns of meditation, borne out from years in the hidden Temple at Ansel, letting him… Detach from the solid world around him easily enough.

Immediately, he felt the pressure of a thousand souls around him, their emotions whipping and twisting through him like lightning cracking down from on high. Or more like lightning cracking through the air, from bright, streaking cloud to bright, streaking cloud. Everything washed over and into him from rage, fear and pain to joy, pleasure, and excitement, all pressing in on him. All drowning him, like the thousand droplets he had already thought of them as.

He could feel it ripping him apart at the very base of his being…

But he’d prepared for this, drawing a long, thin piece of wood from a fold in his robe and using the sharp edge to slice through the skin of his palm. The pain grounded him, told him where - and who - he was in the tempest that had stretched his mind to the breaking. It was tenuous, the tempest was still yanking him to and fro with the clear aim to vivisect him and scatter his mind to the proverbial wind.

But it was enough.

Using his anchor he began to search, grabbing bolts of emotion-borne lightning out of the air as they passed and feeling their feelings. Judging them. Appraising them like a collector, or maybe an investigator, might for clues while he floated in the midst of the dark hurricane.

Excitement, love, pleasure- “No.”

Fear, revulsion, phantom pains echoing up from her thighs- “No, Blake isn’t in that kind of pain…”

Again and again he felt the deluge, one at a time, searching for the one droplet he was seeking. It felt like hours passed as he worked, mind straining, hand burning, and head throbbing. The latter, at least, added more pain that could anchor him. He reached for the next of a thousand, sparking a vibrant mix of Light and Dark and flashing between the two confusedly, he thought he might have found what he needed…

Confusion, sorrow, longing, pain so deep he couldn’t fathom it- “Blake?”

“...Blake?”

“What?” 

“...ake…”

“The connection isn’t strong enough… Damn it.” He murmured, grunting as the sensation began to fade and writhe, like a mad serpent made of lightning lashing about in his grip, desperate for freedom. “Here goes something…”

He pulled the feelings, all the emotions roiling about inside of him, into his heart.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Forty-one.” Adam grunted as he sat up, heads behind his head and feet pressed to the bottom of his cot. Easing back down he took a breath and rose again, counting just as the door opened, “Forty-two. And hello, lunch.”

“I have a name.”

“I’m aware.” He grunted, turning to look at the woman, “Part of it is branded to my face. Or did you forget, Schnee?”

“Of course I didn’t-” Specialist Winter Schnee sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and shook her head slowly. Part of him wanted to rush her, then, and make an escape. But he knew she’d be backed by a small guard force he couldn’t take without Wilt and Blush, so he didn’t. Finally, she opened her eyes and tapped the little plastic tray she was carrying, “I brought your dinner.”

“No way!” He gasped, feigning shock as he rose and then grunting, “Forty-three. I couldn’t possibly guess that you were delivering my dinner from the time. Or the tray. Or you being in my cell- And isn’t it time I go to court for my crimes, Specialist? Or does Atlas not do proper trials any more?”

“Must you be this insufferable…?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, grunting ‘fifty’ and standing, slowly enough the Schnee wouldn’t leap to run like a deer that spotted a bush shaped vaguely like a wolf. Smiling thinly and baring his teeth he leaned back on his cot and shrugged, “Must your family continue to indenture an entire species?”

“The SDC has hardly indentured every Faunus on Remnant.” She argued, shaking her head and adding, before he could say anything, “And that is not to say they indenture anyone. My father’s practices are vile, to be sure, and thus I left. But they are not that deplorable.”

“Really?” He murmured, tapping the side of his face, just under the bandage, meaningfully, “Are you sure about that?”

“My father hardly held you down on his desk to brand you, or beat any Faunus.” She sighed, finally stepping into his cell and letting the door close behind him. Under her breath, and sure, now, that no one could hear, she added, “He saved that for us.”

Distantly, Adam felt a stab of sympathy.

Much closer, and louder, he felt a surge of pleasure imagining the Schnee bloodying each other.

“You won’t get any sympathy from me, Schnee. Sorry.” He shrugged, earning - and enjoying - a scowl from the woman. “It’s nothing personal. Or, well, it is, but… Well, I’m just not the right tree to be barking up for any of that. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Fine then.” She shrugged, crossing the room and holding his food out to him. Raising his brows he took it and sat the food on his bed, eyeing the woman. When she didn’t leave, only backing away, out of his reach, he sighed and asked, “What do you want?”

“Just to tell you that Belladonna is still catatonic.” She answered, smiling when he scowled and adding, quietly, “And the man that throttled you is trying to help her.”

“And you’re telling me… Why, Schnee?” He growled, waving a hand at his food and adding, “To ruin my dinner, maybe?

“I just… Thought that you would like to know that we’re trying to help her.” She shrugged and turned as the door opened, stepping through and calling back as she went, “Enjoy your meal, Taurus.”

Sighing as the door slid shut he turned to do just that, as best he could. And, now that now one could hear, murmured, “You better work it out, you bastard…”

And damn him for forcing Adam to hope that a Human could find the way to help a Faunus, too.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“I know he’ll be fine.” Pyrrha murmured quietly, leaning against the wall where she was waiting at the entryway. Chewing the inside of her lip she tapped a foot anxiously and rambled on, “It’s just that this is the first time he’s done anything like this. Touching another’s mind, like this, I mean.”

“Do you really?” Ironwood asked from across from her, turning an eye on Specialist Amin boredly when the Faunus shifted. Turning back to her he went on, “This is a first for him, like you said. Can you be sure that he can handle this?”

“I can.” She murmured, “I believe in him.”

“Do you really?” Ironwood asked firmly, nodding in answer when she paid him one. Smiling, he said, “Then simply hold to your beliefs. If you know you’re right, you should never let doubt cause you to waver from what you hold in your heart.”

“I am. Truly, I am, General. I’m just…” She sighed, rubbing the bottom of her thighs where flesh met metal, and her legs were beginning to ache without her meds. “I’m… I do not really know, I guess. Anxious would be an acceptable word for it, I suppose, even if I don’t know why I’d be anxious.”

“Like I said, you-”

“Being anxious is normal.” The Specialist offered, paying half a look to the General to see if he’d reprimand him either for interrupting or for speaking while he was on duty like he was. When he didn’t, he went on, quietly, “It just means you care for him, you know? That’s not a bad thing, if you ask me.”

“I know, but…” She sighed, “No, you’re right. But I should have faith in him.”

“And in yourself, Nikos.” General Ironwood offered firmly, sounding and looking every bit like a man trying desperately to offer his wisdom to someone he considered in need of it. “I can’t think of any reasons for you to doubt yourself so much like this. You’ve done a lot, and you should be proud of that. And more confident for it, too.”

“I suppose…” That sounded too much like arrogance for her comfort, were she to speak her mind candidly. Not that she would, of course, since there was no real reason to offend the General like that. Instead, she tried, “Whatever the case, once all is done, I hope what we found in Ozpin’s reliquary is useful enough to pique the Curator’s interests.”

“As do I.” Ironwood nodded, “The Archive could be worth a lot to all of us.”

“Indeed…” She sighed, watching the General closely, warily, for any sense of something untoward coming from him. Jaune had taught her a bit about it, how to watch a person’s hands and eyes to tell if they were trying to act too natural to hide intent. When she saw nothing she smiled and said, “Once we’re done here, I would enjoy visiting it again.”

“You’re ready?”

“Ready enough for a visit, I belie-” Suddenly, the building shook as if struck and she was on her feet eyes flicking to and fro warily. “Attack?”

“Maybe.” Ironwood nodded, his heavy handgun in his hand as he turned to the Specialist and barked, “Status?”

“The tremors came from inside the secure wing.” The Specialist said, standing and turning as the doors slid open automatically. His rifle was up as he stepped through the door and then he ducked as half a Knight flew over their heads, trailing smoke, sparks and embery fires and clattering down the hall behind them. The Faunus stood and, mostly needlessly, grunted, “Knight-103 is down, Sir. As are all the Knight frames nearest BM’s location.”

“Jaune!” Pyrrha cried worriedly as half a dozen Knights, those guarding doors nearer to them than the epicenter, arrived and turned, offering their bodies as a semi-living shield of metal and raised rifles. 

The General and Specialist each slid to the side, using the shield offered to them and leveling weapons down the hall as smoke began to billow up, towards them. It clouded their vision but after a heartbeat she heard the whirr of a computer working and the machine’s intoned silently, “Switching to thermal vision.”

Then, as if prompted by the words, the machine in the center was yanked forward and into the smoke. Metal crumpled and, after a moment, its legs were hurled back. Then the smoke billowed forward, washing over them and blinding them. While Pyrrha coughed, she leaned a hand on the machine in front of her, feeling it turn searchingly for the target that was attacking them. Then it was yanked forward and away, leaving her to stagger in its wake as overhead fans kicked on, sucking the smoke out of the hallway.

Looking up, she came face to face with Jaune, eyes a bright gold and his face flat. He saw her and winced, growling words she didn’t understand.

“Jaune, what’s going- Ack!” She choked as his hand closed around her throat and hoisted her up, into the air. Glaring at her with empty eyes he snarled.

Then, his head snapped back as something impacted it and she fell, hacking as an electric sound crackled through the quiet hallway.

Jaune roared, staggering away and clawing at his face as electricity arced around it. He yanked the little thing, which looked rather like a tiny bola, off his face and hurled it aside as heavy boots sounded on the ground. Stretching his arms out Jaune called on the Force and hurled the oncoming machines up, into the ceiling where they smashed through simple tiling and into heavy concrete. Then he slammed them down, shattering them on the ground.

A gentle whump sounded and Jaune bucked, hand on his leg where a dart protruded from his limb. Another whump and a second appeared in his shoulder, and then a third in his neck. Turning, she watched the Black Guard step into the scene, shoulders nearly touching and strange little tubes in their hands. One dropped their weapon as they were lifted, mute, off their feet to claw at their throats.

The others ignored them, though, unleashing another volley of needles that stopped in the air over her and were hurled to the side.

“Stay!” A voice barked as Jaune lumbered forward, freezing in place as Pyrrha rose to intercept her enraged partner and herself froze.

This time, the volley of darts hit home, and she saw his eyes struggle to stay opened as she felt whatever was holding her abate. As her partner fell she surged forward to catch him and turned, holding him against her breast while Ironwood approached, his Black Guard at his back while Amin tended to their downed companion.

“What,” the General growled hotly, was that?”

“I… I don’t know.” She answered quietly, watching the Black Guard closely as they silently reloaded their odd air guns. Weapons that seemed very strangely suited to someone whose Aura had to lower in a fight… “But when he wakes up, I intend to find out exactly what is going on.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

A lot of bouncing around, here. And so little dialogue that I couldn’t keep up the fun chemistry. But some interesting developments nonetheless. And a showing from the Black Guard, too, to demonstrate THEIR effectiveness and discipline.

Hope you all enjoy as the story finally starts sliding into its full swing!

XxX----XxX----XxX

Xealchim :

When people talk about the mythology and history of this universe, in-fic, they aren’t stating what I know. Rather they are stating what THEY know. Their understanding of, in this example, Revan’s path. It may be incorrect, or only half the story, but such is how this works.

Also, no, I haven’t played them. I researched them extensively prior to writing this.

Stallion Wolf :

He actually did, if you caught it in the fight with Cinder.

Seklarian :

Thank you for the kind words and support! Things are improving for me, and while my updates have slowed tragically dramatically, I will continue them around comms and my new job. Stay tuned, and I hope to continue to impress and satisfy!

Argus 456 :

Jaune is a non-entity, politically, in this. So if Irondaddy asks for access to what he finds out, he’d probably do it just to help out a semi-ally. As for James? Yeah, his motivations were more directed at making Jaune not be an enemy. Also, resolving Blake’s issues helps out in other ways, such as not being accused of having somehow incarcerated the only Faunus in the eight main characters.

People are weird and would totally have that as a conspiracy theory, lol.

The Alaskan Kid :

Glad you enjoy it! And yeah, I aim for a unique style of story. Sometimes I land that shot, sometimes I miss, but it is always a ride!

It’s Crimson then (Guest) :

I won’t spoil where in the timeline they are, but the description was meant to super clearly be Clone armor. So the ‘betrayal’ he got off of it would have been the betrayal of a Jedi. Whether this would be order 66 is or not is up to interpretation, though.


	8. Temple Turmoil, I

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Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Jaune, three on your rear.” His hand snapped around and his pistol came up, cracking a trio of shots down the hallway. 

Two caught the SDC security drone in the chest before the third took its throat and nearly ripped the head off entirely. The second droid whipped its rifle around but he stepped back and rolled to the side, letting the rounds rip through the clone he left behind before another round of his own snapped out, catching it dead center in the face plate. The third shook its head as its face was covered in oil and machine based detritus, but another round killed it, too, before it could fire on him.

Sparking and seizing, it fell, laying still alongside the dozen or so other machines scattered along the long hallway. And the two Atlesian soldiers that had been leading them, too… But he tried not to think about them.

They’d shot first, after all.

“Let’s go.” Adam ordered sharply, striding through the carnage like it didn’t bother him, somehow. “We need the Dust.”

“Right.” He nodded, lowering Gambol Shroud and following the larger man through the long hall to the sealed door. Looking it up and down, Jaune sighed, “Locked. Just like our contact told us it’d be…”

“So?” He shrugged, pacing behind Jaune with a hand on Wilt and Blush both, holding the weapon at the ready. “Give them the warning like you want, then get us in there.”

“Right…” Pounding a fist against the door, she called out as loud as she could, her voice echoing down the empty corridor. “Hey! I know you can hear me through the door! Give up! We just want the Dust, and the door will not hold against us. Open up, we’ll take what we need, and you won’t have to be afraid of us.”

No one answered, and after a long moment, she sighed and looked to Adam anxiously.

“My way it is, then. Don’t say I didn’t try things your way, Blake...” The other Faunus grunted, smiling viciously, victoriously, and slipping into his drawing stance while she moved out of the way. After a moment, his hair and clothes began to glow, slightly.

Then, he surged forwards, a lance of stored energy carving out and into the armored door. It didn’t stand a chance...

XxX----XxX----XxX

Jaune shot up and then hissed as his ribs flared angrily and his arm yanked back, cuffed to the edge of his bed. His head throbbed with every beat of his heart, and it was only by falling back onto his training that the dark room and oppressive silence didn’t make that heart race. In the near-silence, his ears picked up quiet sounds he normally missed, from voices in the hall outside to the sound of the machines in his room, and even the vents.

His Aura did its work though, after a few long moments, and his aching head began to ebb.

“What was that dream, though...” He murmured, using the Force to snap the heavy duty cuffs easily enough and sitting up in his bed. “A vision, maybe? No, it can’t be a vision. The Force isn’t echoing with it, like it should be.”

Then what was it?

Memories, maybe…?

He closed his eyes and took a breath, calling on the Force to try and re-immerse himself in the memories. The moment he did his stomach spun and the throbbing in his head returned full force, along with a wash of colors and thoughts. He saw the fight play out over and over again, his head snapping up and down as he tired to figure out which height was right. Adam called him different names, washing together in slurs that maddened him-

He slammed his forehead into the wall hard enough it cracked, the pain that flared across his face driving him to his knees as blood ran from his busted nose. But it also tugged him back to his senses. Just in time to hear his heart monitor going haywire…

“Well shit...”

As if on cue, the door slid open, a pair of doctors and a security drone rushing in with a large case on wheels rolling along behind them. The three of them paused on seeing him standing, blood running down his face, for the longest second of his life. Then they surged forward, the two talking rapidly and ignoring him as they herded him back to the bed. A cloth came out, wiping at his face, and, distracted, he didn’t throw up his Aura to stop the needle the other jammed into his thigh.

His vision started to swim before the needle even came out, and he rocked back, slurring, “Son of a… I was fffffine.”

Then his world went black entirely, the Force washing him away in a wild, dizzying sea of emotions that ran together. Then, after a moment, that faded too and he was left in the dark. Another moment or three and that, too, vanished as he finally passed out.

XxX----XxX----XxX

He sighed, more collapsing into the rickety old chair than sitting in it, and looking out on the wide meadow his client’s house sat on. A dozen or so cows milled about in a fairly wide enclosure, while on the other side of a path were a variety of horses. He spotted his own, a sturdy Mistralian white, mingling with a few others and smiled. At least his horse had been able to relax…

“Well you look like shit, Lil’ Mister.” The old man said as he joined him on the porch, taking the seat beside his, on the other side of a small table, and setting down a cold bottle of water for him. “Job done?”

“Grimm’s dead.” The man sat down a stack of Lien that she slid into her blouse and she smiled, adding, “Bandits are, too.”

“No shit?”

“They saw me after the Grimm and I had a row.” She answered by way of explanation, taking the bottle and running a thumb along its seal to check it habitually. Satisfied, she unscrewed it and took a refreshing drink, “Thought that I’d be easy pickings, I suppose. Young, lone woman, walking old forest paths and cradling a sore arm? I can see why.”

“Well, good work, Miss… Amber, was it?” She nodded and the old codger smiled, his mangy, gnarled beard warping to show it more than his face could, through the hair and wrinkles. He kept the smile all the while as he fished out another stack of Lien and set it down, then stood. “Rest on up then, as ya like, I s’pose. Then you can head off to… Fuck knows where, but it ain’t my business.”

“Vale.” She answered without knowing why, “To see an old… Well, someone I know, I guess.”

“Trouble?”

“Maybe, but not for you.” She sighed, standing up and plucking her staff from where she leaned it against the side of the old cabin. “But the drunk old bastard never flies my way, anymore… So somethin’ that’ll be a pain in my ass is probably up.”

“Right, well… Take care.” The old man said, shuffling to his door, “Not ‘nough young’uns like you out here helpin’ folk, so don’t et killed.”

“Right.” She sighed, “Because no one can just want me alive for me…”

Whatever the case, a whistle had her horse coming towards the gate, and she had Lien to spend. Maybe on some apples for them. They both loved apples, after all, and Tweety would probably get some alcohol in her. So she’d need the refreshment come the morning, to chase off the headache.

XxX----XxX----XxX

This time, Jaune didn’t jerk awake, instead coming to more gently. His head still throbbed, though, and he had to touch his chest to be sure he didn’t have breasts as his senses of here and self swam… And good fucking Dust, his face hurt. His Aura went to work right away, the pain slowly ebbing away as his hand reached up, trailing along his face to make sure his nose wasn’t crooked or anything ridiculous like that like that.

The aches in his head faded away quickly, though, and as it went he felt the living Force swirling around him yet again.

It echoed with… Annoyance mixed with anxiety and relief.

“Hey, Ruby.” He groaned, more than able to recognize her feel in the Force. A little ball of anxiety and pure Light that stood out anywhere. 

“Hey, Jaune.” She answered brightly, smiling when he sat up in the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright enough, I guess...” He said as he looked around the sterile, clinical room. It wasn’t like the one Blake had been in, with different lights and a silvery wall made of a completely different material. Smiling, he added, “Or, well, about how I look like I feel, I guess.”

“So…. Bad?”

“Pretty, yeah..” He grunted, shaking his head, “But getting better already. Aura’s pretty great, you know.”

“Yeah…” Ruby nodded, sitting stiffly in her chair, with a straight back, scrunched shoulders, and her hands on her knees like they were holding her up. Her leg bounced anxiously and he was about to ask what was going on when Ruby asked, “Are you, um, you know… Sure that you’re okay, Jaune?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, brows knitting together as her anxiety bloomed, echoing out into the Force like a proverbial gunshot. “Why do you ask?”

“How much… Do you remember, from when you tried to do, um, whatever with Blake?” Ruby asked, wide, silver eyes rounding on him searchingly. 

“A headache, and then… Not much, really.” He frowned and shifted in his bed, glad that at least this time they hadn’t cuffed him. Ruby only grimaced, looking away, but that was more than enough for his heart to race. “Why?”

“Jaune, something… Happened.” Ruby sighed, watching him warily and worriedly as she went on, “When you tried to do, uh, that, you… Went berserk. Attacked the robots- General Ironwood and Pyrrha, too. They had to tranq you to bring you down.”

“I went-” He blinked and sat up straighter, eyes wide, “What happened? Is Pyrrha okay? Is that why she’s not here?”

“No, no, no, no, bad! No freaking out!” Ruby was on him in a flash, hands on his shoulders pushing him back down into the bed. He could have overpowered her easily enough, and he was sure she knew that, but he let her push him down. Then she flitted back to her chair, petals trailing as she wen, and sighed, “No one is hurt, Jaune, it’s just… My turn to sit with you, in case you got up again.”

“Your turn?” He blinked, “How long have I been here? No, wait, in case I got up again?”

“You, uh… Got up a few times, and wandered around.” Ruby explained quietly, “Wrecked a lot of the security droids, too, when you did. I think you were still recovering from whatever went wrong. What did go wrong? What were you even doing to Blake?”

“I was trying to connect with her mind, figure out what was happening to her.” He explained quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose as strange memories started pushing forward on their own, throbbing gently behind his eyes. Pressing them back, he explained, “I did the first bit, I’m pretty sure, but the second part… I’m not trained to do any of that, and it blew up in my face.”

“Yeah, figured that part out myself.” She laughed, paying him a nervous, almost pained look before adding, quietly, “And, uh… You’ve been in and out for a week and a half or so. We’ve been taking turns sitting with you in case you… Got up again. You know, whenever we can be here.”

“That explains a few things…” He sighed, thinking back on the doctors and how eager they’d been to put him under when they saw him. Forcing as good a smile as he could manage he asked, “Catch me up on what I missed, then?”

“Sure!” Ruby nodded, “Can do! But, uh, where do you want me to start?”

“Where I am, maybe?” He shrugged, relaxing against his pillows as best he could and waving a hand around him. “This doesn’t feel like the Hospital.,,”

“Feel like- Oh, yeah, um, space magic stuff.” He winced at that description but Ruby was already moving on before he could even think about saying anything about that. Smiling awkwardly, the young Rose rubbed the back of her neck, “Uh, so, Pyrrha told Ironwood about how the hospital affected you. So he, uh, kinda, just a little bit… Arrested you and took you up to his ship?”

“...Come again?”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Atlesian defences were always well-made, with the most advanced technology manned by the best trained operators on the planet. Their engineers were no slouches either, able to erect the walls, towers and mounts those defenses rested on with all the speed of a Beowolf on the scent of blood, rushing down its wounded prey. The Atlesian Engineering Corps could roll into a vaguely defensible location and have it fortified and armed for bear in less than a month’s time.

Unfortunately for her, that was exactly what they’d done at the mountain her Mistress had so kindly released her to see dealt with.

The fortress that the Atlesians had built was oddly muted, considering who had built it. The typical dark grey steel walls ringed it in a semi-circle surrounding a large building she’d been told hid an entrance to a sort of cave. A dozen small parapets surrounded it, fitted with Multi rack Missile Launchers that could target near and far, and air or ground, reasonably well. At least against the Grimm. Heavy machine gun emplacements lined the wall as well, recessed into small bunkers built between and under the parapets while a century of droids, and a dozen or so Troopers, patrolled the wall and grounds beyond.

“Attacking it head on will mean grinding through their defences.” She murmured, kneeling in the trees where she knew she wouldn’t be seen. “It’ll be a bloodbath…”

“Quite likely, yes.” The Seer behind her mused, her Queen’s regal voice carrying through the connection with mystical clarity. “Why, Atlas and mantle might even have a new holiday to celebrate, once all is said and done. How very kind of you, to let these men and women go down in history in such a way.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them that then, if they can hear me over the screaming.” Cinder nodded, turning and adding more reverently, “Your Grace.”

“Mhm.” The Orb glowed and then grew closer to her, so that it could mind her. Through it the Grimm Queen ordered, quietly, “Begin the attack then, Cinder.”

“Of course, my-”

“And do remember, dear, dear Cinder, that if you fail again I will instruct Tyrian to make an example of you.” She threatened lowly, the tendrils of her Seer snaking out to slither around Cinder’s torso, slipping up to cup a cheek. And press a bladed tip to her throat. “And a more permanent one at that. Why, I hear Tyrian has been quite curious what would happen to a live Human thrown into the Grimm Tide.”

“I-I see...” She murmured, head pulled back and feet arching as the invasive tendrils explored her demeaningly and hoisted her into the air. She knew Salem was testing her, though… Cinder was hers to use as she wished, and she wanted to make sure she knew that. Swallowing her her fear, she murmured, “I will need to apologize to him, then, since he will not be finding out through me.”

“I hope not.” The monarch said finally, pitching her back, off her feet, and watching her collapse in a heap on the grassy ground. “Begin, then, Cinder.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” She nodded, rising and dusting the black trousers she’d worn under her red dress off mechanically as she did. Turning, she raised her voice and ordered, “Tear them apart!”

The baying and roaring and chittering that answered sent an instinctive thrill up her spine, and she couldn’t fight the smile it lit across her face as the bestial tide surged forward from the woods around her. Predictably, the Beowolves, Creeps and Boarbatusks, drawn from the nearby woods and mountains, went first by sheer virtue of their speed, while the larger, more stocky Ursai, Berengels and Minotaurs trundled along behind them. Overhead Nevermore, Gryphons, Sphinxes, Lancers and a swarm of other smaller Grimm she couldn’t pick out in the mass flocked up from the woods to follow suit.

It was beautiful, in a primal sort of way…

For whatever reason, the Grimm had always ranged around the mountain she’d been sent to attack. Salem had told her that herself, even if she hadn’t known exactly why that was the case. Still, with the Queen’s command, the Grimm didn’t hesitate to throw themselves headlong into their assault on the mountain. 

And Atlas’ staunch defenders, for all the shock that had to be rushing through their ranks, didn’t hesitate to answer in kind, filling the air with MRMs and flack that tore apart the aerial Grimm flocking towards them. As the Grimm on the ground neared the heavy guns opened up, their explosive rounds ripping apart the light Grimm as they came. Soldiers and droids poured onto the wall to add lighter munitions to the mix as well, slowing the pushing Grimm line to a crawl.

Soon, though, the more heavily armored Grimm joined the fray, bucking and writhing as they were struck. But with their thicker hide and armor, they didn’t fall until droids and soldiers focused their fire on them and overwhelmed them. But doing that took away the fire that had held the rest of the tide back and, slowly but steadily, the Grimm pushed through for it while those overhead swarmed and dove, those that survived carrying away droids as well as men and women.

Atlas’ soldiers didn’t let up, but they were being overwhelmed by the sheer mass that Salem had drawn together. As the Grimm reached the walls, they began battering through the gates and clambering over each other to scale the wall.

“They seem to be having trouble.” Cinder murmured, turning to look over her shoulder as the sound of hooves reached her.

“I shall deal with that personally, if I must. I already prepared for it, after all.” The Seer said, hovering beside the Nuckelavee that loomed over Cinder forebodingly, body covered by the evidence of a thousand battles. “I trust you can handle setting the stage alone?”

“I can, if you allow me to.” She nodded, gasping as the cold hand of the Nuckelavee closed around her, lifting her high and putting it in front of her, one arm around her to hold her fast. As the Seer moved away she watched it glow and murmured, quietly, “I’m nothing without you…”

“Not nothing.” Salem said, the Seer bobbing long ahead of her, slipping around a tree. In its absence, Salem’s voice echoed eerily around the trees, “You are a disappointment, so far, after all. Which isn’t nothing.”

“I won’t be for long.” Cinder vowed as the Grimm ambled forward, its gait uneven and uncomfortable. “You can count on it.”

Salem didn’t answer as the Nuckelavee went on, walking at a steady, easy pace. After a couple minutes had passed, Cinder saw a small glint of red and black flash. Then, as if a bomb had gone off, a red sun bloomed, swallowing the gatehouse on the front of the fortress and drawing all around it into it. Then, with a distant, dull whump, it detonated, massacring the Grimm and the soldiers around it in a shower of debris and fire.

Smiling, she turned a look on the Grimm face behind her and ordered, “Faster, now. It’s time we finish this, and see to our Queen’s tasks.”

Silently, the Grimm surged forward, galloping through the forest.

XxX----XxX----XxX

They watched, silent, as the Atlesians outside the cave were cut down by the Grimm. For a quiet, hopeful moment, they had considered sending their Droids out to join the defense. The Atlesians had been so generous, after all… But before they could, the fortress had been all but annihilated by an explosion unlike any he had seen in some time. In its wake, the Grimm washed through unhindered, and thought the Atlesians fought valiantly, they knew what was going to be the end.

Silently, the Curator turned and retreated into a ready Temple, leaving the droids behind to defend it.

And if they failed… Well, they could always use that to solve the problem.

XxX----XxX----XxX


End file.
